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LIFE 
IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 






CONTENTS. 



BOOK I. 

SHEWING THE "GLORIOUS UNCERTAINTY" OF PLEASING EVERY 
CLASS OF SOCIETY RESPECTING A KNOWLEUGE OF LIFE IN 
LONDON BEING ESSENTIAL TOWARDS THE IMPROVEMENT OF 
THE JUNIOR BRANCHES OF MANKIND J AND ALTHOUGH CON- 
TRARY TO THE ESTABLISHED AND SAPIENT RULES OF THE 
COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS, AND THE PRACTICE PURSUED BY OUR 
LEARNED FRIENDS IN WESTMINSTER HALL, WE ARE NEVERTHE- 
LESS ANXIOUS TO GIVE ADVICE WITHOUT A FEE, IN ORDER TO 
PROVE THAT, IN ALL CASES, WHETHER CONNECTED WITH 
YOUTH OR MORE MATURE AGE, PREVENTION IS MUCH 
BETTER THAN CURE : INDEED, 80 ANXIOUS ARE WE TO SET 
OURSELVES BIGHT WITH THE PUBLIC, AS TO OUR FUTURE IN- 
TENTIONS RESPECTING THIS WORK, AND THAT WE MAY SEE 
OUR WAY CLEARLY, AND TREAD ON THE FIRMEST GROUND, WE 
FEEL INCLINED TO ADOPT THE LATIN PROVERB SO OFTEN 
QUOTED BY BOB LOGIC TO THE UNSUSPECTING JEERY, ON 
HIS FIRST ARRIVAL IN THE METROPOLIS: 

Incidit in Scyllam qui vult vitare Charybdim. 

THE NECESSITY IS ABSOLUTE ; OR, RATHER, AN APOLOGY IS 
REQUIRED FOR THE INTRODUCTION OF THE AUTHOR AND 
ARTIST TO THE NOTICE OF THE READER, PREVIOUS TO THE 
SECOND APPEARANCE OF THOSE HEROES— CORINTHIAN 

TOM, LOGIC, AND JERRY, on the great theatre of the 

WORLD ! POUR QUOI ? TO VINDICATE THE CHARACTERS OF 
THE AUTHOR AND ARTIST FROM THE UNMERITED ASPERSION 
OF HAVING ATTEMPTED, BY THE JOINT EFFORTS OF REAL TALES, 
ORIGINAL ANECDOTES, AND ANIMATED SKETCHES, TO DEMO- 
RALISE THE RISING GENERATION ; AND LIKEWISE TO REFUTE 
THE CHARGE OF HAVING TURNED THE HEADS OF OLDER FOLKS 
TOWARDS THE COMMISSION OF ACTS OF FOLLY AND INTEM- 
PERANCE, enough! TO OUR TASK " HARK ! FORWARD'S THE 



395533 



VI 



CONTENTS. 



WORD, SEE THE GAME IS IX VIEW I " AXD OrR EXERTIONS WILL 
BE VIGOROUSLY DIRECTED TO ESTABLISH, IF POSSIBLE, " TACHE 
SANS TACIIE," OUR PRINCIPAL AIM BEING TO REALIZE, TO THE 
UTMOST EXTENT, THE ATTRACTIVE MOTTO — 

mo BOjST) PUBLICO! 

Proceed, my boy, nor heed their fiu'ther call. 
Vain his attempts who strives to pleeise you all! 



Chap. I. — Most artainly, if the dull routine of common-place 
/nutters ivere acted upon, hut rather than commence ivith the 
cold formality) of a Chapter as to minor events, the Author 
feels himself, as it ivere, in a labyrinth to affix an apposite 
Name to it; and therefore he prefers leaving the Title to the 
Header, to give it anij character his peculiar taste 7naij adojit. 
Desired effect of the Invocation to the bright Goddess, to 
render her assistance to the previous part of this Work — suc- 
cessftd beyond all precedent — calling forth expressions of GRA- 
TITUDE from the Author and Artist ; and also a sincere 
return of thanks to Fame, for the high-sounding praises of 
Life in London, throughout the North, East, West, and 
Southern parts of the Globe. Great jMpularity of the Work 
— Swarms of literary Pirates, lots of Copyists, but no ORI- 
GINALS— an Argument for the Woolsack. A rich Feature 
for Bramatic Writers — also an enquiry en passant as to the 
Legitimacy of the subject. Numerous Performances at the 
Theatres all over England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales; 
like^vise in most of the United States of America, the West 
Indies, Ax. LiFE IN London translated into French. Imi- 
tations of the Dresses of ToM, Logic, and Jerry, in the 
fashionable Public Walks— the CharacUrs and various Scenes 
in the Work represented on Handkerchiefs, Tea- Trays, Snuff- 
boxes, Ladies' Fans, and Siucetmeats. Revival of the subject 
after a silence of Seven Years, something after the calculating 
doctrine of to " Look before you leap, and deliberate before yon 
resolve.'- The advantages resnltim/ from MYSTERY! or, 
" Thinks J to myself, thinks / / " ' " 



Page 



When ciir« into \\w air ;ijr thrown, 
A\')m( fidts lAcii MAN iiuiy make his own. 



CONTENTS. Vll 

Page 
CiiAP. II. — Tlie difficulty of parting luith Old Pals — nothing else 
but the right sort of Chaps — a practical illustration of the 
sound doctrine of " Friendship without Interest." A sigh for 
those " dear creatures " left behind us. Stage Coach re-flections 
and adventures. New acquaintances. SiE John Blubber, 
Knt., a second Falstaff iviihout stuffing. An outline of his 
Character. Bill Ptjt-'eh-along, the learned Dragsman. 
The Pulpit versus the Box. The broJcen sentence mended. 
Taking Stock — balancing Accounts — something after the 
manner of the dangers of Town Eambles versus Countky 
Amusements. Cliange of Scene absolutely necessary. Re- 
luctant adieu to the Metropolis ; but, nevertheless, the power- 
ful attractions of " Home I Siceei Home I " Haiuthorn Hall 
in sight, and the joy of the Old Folks on the return of Jerky 
to his native soil. The advantages of ^^ pulling up " in time — 
gooil effects of training ; and exercise the best physic towards 
the production of health and strength. Jerry once more him- 
self — his favourite pursuits reneived luith vigour. The 
Charms of the Chase. Jerry a true Sportsman — the pleasure 
attached to the dog and the gun. The Country round Haw- 
thorn H^VLL , 37 

Chap. III. — The effects of all-powerful Love in the scale of happi- 
ness : "SNEAKING kindness" to wit; Jerry reduced to a 
dummy, and Natltie triumphant. The charms of Virtue : 
Miss Mary Eosebud, an outline rather than a portrait : the 
hand of SiR Thomas Lawrence required to do justice to the 
subjects. Lots of visitors. Arrival o/SiR John Blubber at 
Hawthorn Hall. The letter announcing the intentions of 
Corinthian Tom and Logic to pay Jerry a visit at the seat 
of his Father. Incidents on the road — the Hotel in an uproar — 
Travellers see strange things. Unexpected visitor to Logic's 
bed in the night ; no Gho&t, but a Somnambulist. The trio 
complete — Logic, Tom, and Jerry together. The Cockney 
astray; or the Peep-o''-duy Boy out of his element. A flying 
shoot — missing the bird, and hitting a barn ; a new reading 
/or i/ie Oxonian. The comfortable fireside ; Old Jollyboy, 
the Curate — a character. Crossing the hand with silver, an 
old story, a gipsy affair. The Long Visitor not exactly a 
new acquaintance. Jerry Jit for another start — not quite : 
his return to London postponed for a short period. Depar- 
ture of Ton, Logic, Blubber, &c., from Hawthorn Hall. G3 

Chap. IV. — Hawthorn Hall rendered almost a nullity by the 
departure of Tom and Logic. The big Subject. The advan- 
tages of a make-weight in a party — SiR John Blubber to 
wit. Jerry's soliloquy, occasioned by the absence of his friends. 
Hours dedicated to love and hunting, by the " YotTN'G One." " 



Ylll CONTENTS. 

I'age 
Original Song, dedicated to Maey Eosebud, written by 
Somebody. A change of scene — Jerey visits Bath, and acci- 
dentally meets ivith Lady Waxtox — another baulk ; a sort 
of teasing made easy. The desired event ; a slice of luck a 
sweetener to the greatest grief. Money makes the mare to go. 
No time to be lost. Jerry unexpectedly starts for London, 
tvith the consent of all parties. Mary's poetic Advice to 
Jerry respecting constancy. Logic's residence his first 
object in view — independence of mind displayed by the Oxon- 
ian. Jerry once more an inmate of Corinthian House. The 
Pupil and his Precej^tors — difficult climax to arrive at — the 
rigid sort of Finish toioards the completion of Education. 
The most experienced Persons at fault. Future operations 
under discussion — a peep at the Map of Babylon. Wliere 
shall we go ? Any luhere ? See all you can 92 

Chap. V. — Jerry and Logic visit the "Great Bore; " serious 
danger of the excursion. Strong Symptoms of Water on the 
Brain, and Logic's Spread of no use in the Floating Capital. 
The adventures of our Heroes at BARTHOLOMEW Fair — the 
Ghost, flesh and blood ! Toii, Jerry, and Logic assisting 
at the ceremony of the ^^ uncommonly big Oentleman" being 
made a Buffalo 105 

Chap. VI. — An invitation to the Duchess of Do-Good's magni- 
ficent Fete : a peep at her Grace's screen ; a most attractive 
subject to our Heroes. TAe Duchess's Eemarks on the Liberty 
of the Press. Logic's opinion as to the conduct of the Duchess 
of Do-GooD. The constrast—B.lG'H. versus LOW Folks ; 
or, the Advantages of Comparison. How to FINISH a night, 
to be UP and dressed in the morning. ToM awake ! Jerry 
caught napping: LoGic on the GO; and the ^'uncommonly 
big Gentleman " abroad ! The plaything of an hour — Saucy 
Nell, a well-knoivn heroine on the Town. Her adventures ; 
and the vicissitudes and ivretchedness of a " gay life " depicted. 
Nell the subject of a fiash Song. Rest necessary ; the fresh 
air requisite ; and our heroes in training for a day cr two at 
Chatham. A visit to the Dock Yard. SPLENDID Jem recog- 
nised by the Corinthian, double-ironed amongst the convicts : 
a Sketch of his life 119 

CilAP. VII. — New Scenes for the YouNG One. Logic visits his 
Old Acquaintances on board the Fleet. ToM and Jerry play 
a Match at Backets with SiR John Blubber. The fat Knight 
floored ! Old Mordecai — a character. The greind Lounge. 
Regent Street to luit. Tom's elegant set-out — off to Ascot. A 
panoramic View of the Scene. Highest Life. The betting 
Stand. A Sketch of the venerable Swell Trap 148 



CONTENTS. IX 

Page 

Chap. YIII. — A visit to the Snuggery of the " uncommonly hi<j 
Gentleman.'" LlFE EN PASSANT. Fancy-dress Ball near Ray 
Fair. The Sage of the East — a character. Tom in full 
sail — Jerry and Logic about to Reel — and the ^^ uncommonly 
big Gentleman " and the High-bred One listening to the strains 
of the One-eyed Orpheus. Jerry e<p, but not dressed — loses 
his Clothes in a low Brothel. The females connected luith the 
subject — and curious notes between Jerry and LoGIC — a speci- 
men of flash letter-iuriting. Adventures upon Adventures. The 
Burning Shame — A Roiu. The fat Knight and the Hero of 
the Roundy-ken. The Cyprian disappointed. The Money- 
lender — a rich bit. The High-bred One trying to get the 
best of Old Screw, in raising the Needful to support Life 
IN London. The Remarks of Logic on the tricks and schemes 
adopted by the Money-lending fraternity. Useful knoxvledge. 1T8 

Chap. IX. — Corinthian Kate's residence: unexpected arrival 
of Tom : the inconstancy of Kate detected, and her separation 
from the Corinthian. The consequences of neglect in matters 
of attachment. Grief displayed by ToM, on the improper con- 
duct of his Mistress ; but there is a time for everything. A 
change of scene necessary. Life IN THE East. Tom, Logic, 
and. Jerry called to the Bar by the Benchers. The John Bull 
Fighter exhibiting his cups; and the " uncommonly big Gentle- 
man " highly amused with the surrounding group. From the 
seat of war to the lap of love. Dangerous to be safe; or, the 
abrupt departure. Jane Merrythought at her ivifs end. 
Lady "Wanton's reputation in danger, and Jerry compelled 
to retreat. Flirtation versus Inconstancy ; both of the heroes 
at fault, yet nothing very uncommon in Life in London 209 

Chap. X. — The melancholy Fate of Kept Mistresset in general. 
Vicissitudes o/CORlNTHlAN Kate — Her various Keepers, and 
rapid degradation in society. Quiet moments, or a rational 
evening. ToM, Jerry, Logic, and " the uncommonly big 
Gentleman" entering into the spirit of the "Game OF For- 
feits," with the Ladies, at Sir Gregory Chance's, the rich 
Banker. The two Old Maids — antique Portraits. A Bit of 
Good Truth. TOM, Jerry, and Logic enjoying the lark, song, 
fun, and frisk of a Cock and Hen Club — a rich Picture of Low 
Life 22(5 

Chap. XI. — Logic and his Pals "going the rounds ; " A finish 
to the night, and an early Spree. Off-hand Wager, and the 
" uncommonly big Gentlema7i" in the BASKl&T. a comic Scene 
near the Theatres. Archery : Tom, Jerry, and the fat 
Knight, try their skill to hit the BulVs-eye. The Corin- 
thian's opinion respecting the amusement of Akchery. A 



CONTENTS. 



Page 



Visit to the Regent Park. The Zoological Gardens: hustle 
and alarm occasioned by the escape of the Kangaroo : SiR 
John Blubber domn on the subject. One of those afflicting 
occurrences of LiFE IN London — Tom, Jerry, and Logic 
arrested in their progress home by the melancholy discovery of 
Corinthian Kate in tJie last stage of a consumption, disease, 
and inebriety ! 240 

CiiAP. XII. — Severe indisposition of Tom on account of the sudden 
flight of Corinthian Kate. Sorrow the order of the day 
for some time at the residence o/ToM. A Visit from the fat 
Knight, ivho removes grief and restores mirth. Our heroes 
take a Peep at the Houses of Lords and Com/mons, and other 
Public InstitidioHs worthy of notice. Life on the Water : 
Tom and Jebry having a PULL for the " BEST OF IT." 
Splinter of no use in the ivind, Logic in difficulties, and 
symptoms of " HEAVY wet," or a DRAP too much for the 
''uncommonly big Gtntleman.'" Trial OF Skill — Pigeon 
Shooting: Tom, Jerry, «Hd the fat Knight engaged in a 
Match 250 

Chap. XIII. — Terrific moments for the thoughtless — Melancholy 
end of Corinthian Kate — one of those lamentable examples 
of dissipated Life in London. The end of extravagance — 
Tim Splinter, according to the remarks of the Oxonian, 
SPLINTERED : but, nevertheless, of no service to his Creditors. 
Tom, Jerry, and Logic make a friendly ccdl on the High-bred 
One in BANCO Eegis. *' Away with melancholy .^ ^' or, an old 
favourite air to a new tune, tvith accompaniments, by a variety 
of Characters. The awful day arrived — the Court in view — 
" to be or n ot to be opposed, ' ' THAT is the question 263 

Chap. XIV. — A Peep at the Tower of London. The last Visit to 
"■the Snuggery:" want of resolution, and the dangerous 
effects of Champagne on gay minds. Jerry, in a state of ine- 
briation, decoyed by a das/iing Cyprian into a piMic brothel: 
the Hotel on Fire during the night, and the " YouNQ One" 
narroivly escapes with his life. His feelings undergo a com- 
plete change. An outline of the Cyprian's history, Ellen 
Preti'YFLOWER : /«r refoiination in consequence of the fire, 
and entrance into the Female Penitentiary. Jerry deter- 
mined to give up all thoughts of Life in London ; to retire 
from the Day and Night Scenes altogether: moralises on his 
late imminent danger and almost miraculous escape from 
death. Logic rajndly declines in health. The Oxonian 
makes his wilt. His advice to Jerry before his Exit. 
l']piTAPn on Logic, written by the CoRINTHlAN 2S;} 

CllAl'. XV. — •' There is no place like Home .' " Jerry bills adieu 
to Lue IN London, accompanied hij the Corinthian to 



CONTENTS. XI 

Page 
Hawthorn Hall. Rosebud cottage in sight, the Church in 
perspective, and a good look-out tovmrds the High Road to 
Matrimony. Uncertainty of existence : sorrow succeeding 
snrroiv : Tom killed by a fall from his Horse tuhile hunting. 
Jerry disconsolate for the loss of his two Pals. Reflections on 
the death of the CoRINTniAN and a few lines to his Memory. 
Grievivg's a folly — Thoughts on Marriage : popping the 
Question — the bit of gold — the reluctant No — Yes ! Old 
JoLLYBOY an important feature. The Wedding Day — all 
hcqyjnness at Hawthorn Hall — Jerry and Mary Rosebuh 
united. The tie-itp of the Story — i.e., to promote hlFE IN 
the Country 305 



ILLU8TKAT10XS. 



The Froxtispiece is inteudefl to operate as a 8ort of gentle, good- 
natured TELL TALE ; or otherwise to jierform the part of a faithful 
MlIiROIl to the lovers of LIFE IX LONDON, by pointing out its 
dangers. It also forcibly portraj-s the horiid effects of Dissipaiiox : 
the destruction and downfall to families occasioned by Gamixo ; the 
punishment, degradation, and loss of liberty brought on by Vice ; and 
the wretchedness and misery entailed upon the fema.le part of Society 
produced by SEDUCTION ! 

The top of the Picture illustrates that too intimate acquaintance 
with the BoUlt and Glass leads to consequences of a ruinous descrip- 
tion ; and also "shakinf^ the elhooj," by the nightly rattling of the dice 
BOX, too often accelerates the most awful results I The effects of 
Time are likewise symbolically expressed, under the Sj/re'id, by the 
demolition of the conglomerated ingredients connected with LIFE 
IN LONDON. 

The circle of the frontispiece mournfully represents the OxoxLvx 
fltjwtd at full length under the Table by the unwelcome Guest ^the 
grim King of Terrors) over the " last bottle .' " It also .shews that 
CoKiXTiiiAX Tom has not a single word more to offer on the fascinat- 
ing subject of Lift in Lowlr/a ; and Jerky must be viewed upon his 
last legs, as a perfect dummy, alarmed at the defunct state of his pah, 
endeavouring to avert the pointed dart of Death ; and also to hide 
from hLs eyes the emblematical hint of the hour-glass, that the " Time 
must come I " 

Death comeo but oru-^., the Philofiopherg say, 

And 'tiB true, my brave boys, but that once u a cleschke ; 

It taken u« from dmiking and U-vi'-g away, 

And KpoiU at a BLOW the best TIPPLER and WENCHER '. 

The tinkler of DuSTT Bob is brought to a stand-still, and " to keep 
it up " no longer within his power, impres.sed with the emblem of his 
calling, " a.shes to ashes ! " that he is going "off the hooks!" Airicax 
Sal has also tossed off the last drain of daffy. " It's all over with me, 
Massa Bob — but me tank you for past favours I " A convincing proof 
that country or colour must all succumb, when the last " notice to quit " 
is served upon the frail tenant. 



XIV ILLUSTRATIONS. 

By way of a luiud-np to the Frontispiece, the Charlies are reeling, 
upon ascertaining those " troublesome customers," Cortnthian Tom 
and Bob Logic, are numbered with the dead ; and that Jerry Haw- 
thorn, Esq., has been compelled to retire into the country, and leave 
the " Guardians of the Night " to proclaim "the hour" without any 
more interruptions. 

^ Page 

" Travellers see strange things." — Logic without his Specs: the 
Mistakes of a Night : the Hotel in an Uproar : Tcnn, Sword 
in hand, backed by a Petticoat : false alarm I but no Ghost. 
The Somnanihidist atvake / VF , hut not doivn ! . . . ~o 

Going off in a Hurry, but not making a Noise in the World ! 
Logic's slippery state of affairs ! A random Hit ! " Milling 
the Glaze ; " and the Upper Works of Old Thatchpate not 
insured ! Jerry too late to prevent his friend Boh being 
"in for it;" and the fat Knight enjojung the Scene, and 
laughing, like Fun, at Logic's Disaster . . . .80 

Hawthorn Hall. — Jerry at Home : the enjoyments of a 
comfortable Fireside : Logic all Happiness : Corinthian 
Tom at his Ease : the " Old Folks " in their Glory; and the 
" uncommonlj' big Gentleman" "told out," taking Forty 
Winks 85 

The Hounds at a Stand -still. — Jerry enticed by the pretty Gipsy 

Girl to have his Fortune told. T^gic breaking Cover . 88 

Logic's Upper Story ; but no Premises. Jerry^s Return to the 
Metropolis ; the " Young One " on the qui vive after his old 
Pal, Bob 100 

Strong Symptoms of Water on the Brain ; and Logic's Spread 

of ?io ?<se in the Floating Capital . . . . .105 

Tom, Jerry, Logic, and the " uncommonly big Gentleman," 
among the "Show Folks," at Bartholomew Fair. "One 
man in his time plays many parts " . . . . . 107 

Tom, Jerry, and Logic, assisting at the Ceremony of making the 

" uncommonly big Gentleman " a Buffalo . . .116 

The Z'Mc/iess of Do- Good's Screen, an attractive Subject to Tom, 

Logic, and Jerry . . . . . . . .120 

How to Finish a Night, to be up, and dressed in the morning. 
Tom awahe ; Jerry caught napping ; Logic on the go ; and 
the " uncommonly big Gentleman " rttroorf . . . 125 

Splendid Jem, once a dashing Hero in the Metropolis, recog- 
nised by Tom amongst the Convicts in the Dock-yard, at 
Chatham ......... 132 

Logic visiting his old acquaintances on board the Fleet, accom- 
panied by Tom and Jerry, to play a match at Rackets with 
Sir John Blubber. The " iat Knight " floored . . .150 



II.I.rSTRATIOXS. XV 

Page 

The Grand Lounge : Regent Street, to wit. Tom and liis Party 
off to the Eaces : Jerry bowing to Kutv and Hue ; Loi/ic in- 
side ; the " uncommonlj' big Gentleman " and the " High- 
bred One " waiting for a Lift . . . . . . \:){ 

Life en passant. — Fancy-dress Ball near Rag Fair. The S'ige 
of the East quite at home. Tom in full sail : La;/ic and Jerry 
about to reel; the "fat Knight" and Ti)it Splinter listening 
to the Strains of the one-eyed Orpheus . . . . IHU 

Jerry up, but not dressed ! A miserable Brothel : his Pal bolted 
with the Togs : one of those unfortunate Dilemmas connected 
with Life in London, arising from the effects of Inebriety . 1n2 

The Burning Shame I — Tom and Jrry laughing at the Turn-up 
between the "uncommonly big Gentleman" and the Hero of 
the Roundy-ken, under suspicious Circumstances . . 100 

The Money Lender. — The " High-bred One" trying it on, to 
get the best of Old Screw, to raise the Needful towards Life 
in London, accomi^anied by Tom, Jerry, and Loyic . . 192 

Corinthian Kate's Residence. — L^nexpected arrival of Tom . . 212 

Life in the East. — Tom, Jerry, and Lof/ic, called to the Bar 
bj' the Be.nrlters. The John Bull Fighter exhibiting his Cups ; 
and the " uncommonly big Gentleman" highly amused with 
the originality of the surrounding Grouj) . . . .213 

Dangerous to be safe ; or, the abrupt Departure. Jane Merry- 
tJionght at her Wit's End. Lady Wanton's reputation in 
danger ; and Jerry compelled to retreat . . . .224 

7'o?H., Jerry, Loijic, and the " uncommonly big Gentleman," enter- 
ing into all the Spirit of the Game of Forfeits . . . 233 

A Bit of good Truth. — Tom, Jerry, and Logic, enjoying the 

Lark, Song, Fun, and Frisk, at a Cock and Hen Club . 237 

An early Spree ; or, an off-hand Wager. The " uncommonly 
big Gentleman " in the Basket, to the no small Amusement 
of Tom and Logic ........ 242 

Archery. — Tom, Jerry, and the " fat Knight," trjdng their skill 

to hit the Bull's Eye 245 

Popular Gardens. — Tom, Jerry, and Logic, laughing at the 
Bustle and Alarm occasioned amongst the Visitors by the 
Escape of a Kangaroo. The "fat Knight" donm on the Sub- 
ject 246 

One of those afflicting Occurrences in Life in London. Tom, 
Jerry, and Logic, arrested on their progress home by the 
melancholy Discovery of Corinthian Kate in the last Stage 
of a Consumption, Disease, and Inebriety .... 250 

Life on the Water. — Symptoms of " Heavy Wet ; " or, a Drap 

too much for the " uncommonly big Gentleman " . • 259 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Pase 



Pigeon Shooting. — Tvm, Jtrry, and the " fat Knight " engaged 

in a Match ......... 2(jl 

Melancholy End of Corinthian Kate ! One of those lamentable 

Examples of dissipated Life in London .... 209 

Banco Regis: Tenterden Park Races. Tom, Jerry, Logic, and 
the " uncommonly big Gentleman " highly entertained on 
their visit to Splinter, with the Race for the Cumeza Stakes 
— the Ladies SiiiTT-ing for themselves .... 278 

Adventures at Court. — Tom, Jerry, and Logic highly amused 
with the actions of the Deaf and Dumb Man outwitting his 
Creditors and the Big Wigs . . . . . .281 

The " House of Accommodation " in Flames I The inmates put to 
flight ! Jerry narrowly escapes with his Life, and preserves 
Ellen Prettyfloiuer, his Paramour, from an untimely Death . 286 

LOGIC'S TESTAMENT.— " Last scene of all, that ends this 
strange eventful history," the Oxonian's " farewell for ever" 
to Torn and Jerry ........ 301 

The Death of Corinthian Tom ...... 308 

One favour bestow— 'tis the last I shall crave— 
Give a rattling view-halloo thrice over my grave ; 
And unless at that warning I lift up my head. 
My boya, you may fairly conclude I am dead ! 

The Wedding-Day. — All Happiness at Hawthorn Hall. Jerry 

axidi Mary Rosebud vmitQ^ . . . . . .311 



LIFE 
IN AND OUT OF LONDON". 



BOOK I. 

SHEWING THE " GLORIOUS UNCERTAINTY " OF PLEASING 
EVERY CLASS OF SOCIETY RESPECTING A KNOWLEDGE 
OF LIFE IN LONDON BEING ESSENTIAL TOWARDS THE 
IMPROVEMENT OF THE JUNIOR BRANCHES OF MAN- 
KIND ; AND ALTHOUGH CONTRARY TO THE ESTAB- 
LISHED AND SAPIENT RULES OF THE COLLEGE OF 
PHYSICIANS, AND THE PRACTICE PURSUED BY OUR 
LEARNED FRIENDS IN WESTMINSTER HALL, WE ARE, 
NEVERTHELESS, ANXIOUS TO GIVE ADVICE WITHOUT 
A FEE, IN ORDER TO PRO\'E THAT, IN ALL CASES, 
WHETHER CONNECTED WITH YOUTH OR MORE MATURE 

AGE, PEEVENTION is much better than CURE : 

INDEED, so ANXIOUS ARE WE TO SET OURSELVES 
RIGHT WITH THE PUBLIC, AS TO OUR FUTURE IN- 
TENTIONS RESPECTING THIS WORK, AND THAT WE 
MAY SEE OUR WAY CLEARLY, AND TREAD ON THE 
FIRMEST GROUND, WE FEEL INCLINED TO ADOPT THE 
LATIN PROVERB SO OFTEN QUOTED BY BOB LOGIC 
B 



LIFE IX AND OL'T OF LONDON. 

TO THE UNSUSPECTING JERRY, ON HIS FIRST AR- 
RIVAL IN THE METROPOLIS : 

Incidit in Scyllam qui vult vitare Charybdim. 

THE NECESSITY IS ABSOLUTE ; OR, RATHER, AN APO- 
I,OGY IS REQUIRED FOR THE INTRODUCTION OF THE 
AUTHOR AND ARTIST TO THE NOTICE OF THE READER, 
PREVIOUS TO THE SECOND APPEARANCE OF THOSE 

HEROES — CORINTHIAN TOM, LOGIC, and 

JERRY, ON THE GREAT THEATRE OF THE WORLD ! 
POUR QUOI? TO VINDICATE 1 HE CHARACTERS OF THE 
AUTHOR AND ARTIST FROM THE UNMERITED ASPER- 
SEON OF HAVING ATTEMPTED, BY THE JOINT EFFORTS 
OF REAL TALES, ORIGINAL ANECDOTES, AND ANIMATED 
SKETCHES, TO DEMORALIZE THE RISING GENERATION ; 
AND LIKEWISE TO REFUTE THE CHARGE OF HAVING 
TURNED THE HEADS OF OLDER FOLKS TOWARDS THE 
COMMISSION OF ACTS OF FOLLY AND INTEMPERANCE. 
ENOUGH ! TO OUR TASK — " HARK FORWARD'S THE 
WORD, SEE THE GAME IS IN VIEW ! " AND OUR EXER- 
TIONS WILL BE VIGOROUSLY DIRECTED TO ESTABLISH, 
IF POSSIBLE, " TACHE SANS TACHE," OUR PRINCIPAL 
AIM BEING TO REALIZE, TO THE UTMOST EXTENT, THE 
ATTRACTIVE MOTTO 

PRO BONO PUBLICO ! 

Proceed, my boj', nor keed their further call, 
Vain his attempt who strives to please you all ! 



CHAPTER I. 

Host certainly, if the dull routine of common-place mattrr 
were acted ujmn, hut rather than commence tcith the 
cold formality of a Chapter as to minor events, the 
Al'THOR feets himself, as it were, in a labyrinth to 
affix an apposite Name to it ; and therefore he prefers 
leaving the Title to the Reader, to give it any character 
his peculiar taste may adopt. Desired effect of the 
INVOCATION to the bright Goddess, to render her assist- 
ance to the previous part of this Work — successful 
beyond all precedent — calling forth expressions of gratf- 
TUDE from the Author and Artist ; and also a 
sincere return of thanks to Fame for her high-sounding 
praises of Life in London, throughout the North, 
East, West, and Southern parts of the Globe. Great 
popularity of the Work — Swarms of Literary Pirates, 
lots of Cojiyiats, but no originals — an argument for 
the Woolsack. A rich feature for dramatic Wrders — 
also an enquiry en passant as to the Legitimacy of the 
subject. Numerous Performances at the Theatres all 
over England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales ; likeivise 
in most of the United States of America, the West 
Indies, S)'c. Life in London tntnslated into French. 
Imitations of the dresses of Tom, Logic, and Jerry, 
in the fashionable Public Walks — the characters and 
various scenes in the Work represented on Handker- 
chiefs, Tea-trays, Snuff-boxes, Ladies^ Fans, and Sweet- 
meats. Revival of the subject after a silence of Seven 
Years, something after tlie calculating doctrine of to 
" Look bejore you leap ; and deliberate before you resolve." 
The advantages resulting from mystery ! or, " Thinks 
I to myself, thinks //" 

"VVTien caps into the air are thrown, 
What m'di each man may make his own. 



4 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

PRUDEXCE, perhaps, if we had held a conference with 
so valuable a judge on the subject, might have hinted the 
necessity of a PAUSE; or, rather, have withheld us 
altogether from sending out to the Public the " Finish of 
the Adventures of Tom, Logic, and Jerry, through their 
various pursuits of Life IN and OUT of London," after 
the following severe philippic had appeared (in the year 
1822) in a journal called Town Talk : — "Pierce Egan has 
done an incalculable injury to this devoted MetroiDolis. To 
write the biography of Boxers, and to collect the memoirs 
of the heroes of the fist, in their eventful progress, from 
their first round, a go-cart, to that in which they are finallj'- 
turned tip, or tied up (for some of them have been hanged")* 
is a labour which we duly appreciate and applaud. But 
this is not all : the mischief which has sprung from it has 
scattered itself far and wide ; and Pierce, like every other 
man of genius, has crowds of imitators. The Theatres 
have lent to his glowing descriptions the full force of their 
assistance, and have tried to give his 'airy nothings a 
local habitation and a name.' We — and, what is worse, 
the female part of society — are nightly regaled with vivid 
representations of the vilest practices of the blackest sinks 
of iniquity which are to be found in the Metropolis. The 
Genius of the Ring seems to have as numerous a body of 
slaves under his spell, as that of the wonderful lamp in the 
Arabian tale : there is a perfect mania for milling : and, 
however small the pretensions of its admirers may be to 
judgment, they have a large share of Fancy. The directors 
of theatres are, and always have been, notorious for the 
want of taste in selecting fit subjects for the public amuse- 
ment : Les Causes Celebres of France, and our own Newgate 



• This remark, by the above Editor, we think is rather invidious — 
it is hitting the pugilists too hard, a wauton sort of blow, an assault ; 
at all events twist-iwg the subject ; in fact, a complete throttler. If 
the Editor consults the Newgate Calendar (a book to which he 
alludes), he will not have to turn over many leaves before he discovers 
that a General , a Banker, and a Parson have all met with accidents 
in their various professions, HONI soix-QUl mal y pense I 



I.IFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 5 

Calendar, long furnished matter for melodramas, and now 
BoxiAXA seems to have beaten them both out of the field. 
ALL THIS IS PIERCE'S FAULT ; it is rcalhj a pit,/ 
that a decent man like Pierce should have done SO 
MUCH MISCHIEF."* 

Then thus it is : — 



Through all the employments of life, 

Each neighbour abuses his brother, 
Whore and rogue they call husband and wife. 

All PROFESSIONS he-rogue one another : 
The priest calls the lawyer a cheat ; 

The lawyer be-knaves the divine ; 
And the statesman, because he's so great, 

Thinks his trade is as honest as mine. 



"We feel assured that, long before the vrord Fixis is put 
to this Work, we shall be able completely to refute the 
assertion of our having done any mischieff to society in 
general, by our representations of the Dai/ and Night Scenes 
in the Metropolis : if, unfortunately, our exertions have 
proved so mischievous as the Editor of " Town Talk " seems 
to have thought, then the late " Peter Corcoran, of Gray's 
Inn, Student at Law," must sadly have mistaken, and most 



* " Who's to decide, when doctors disagree Y " In the Shef- 
field Independent, April 12, 1828, the Editor thus states his opinion : — 
"We have been amused so many years with the patois 'which. Mr 
Egan has invented ; and we could pay him a compliment, if the op- 
portunity served. It was fortunate for our manners, at least, if not 
for our morals, that when Sporting Gentlemen thought proper to 
intrude their affairs upon the knowledge of the world, they chose him 
for their organ. He invented a language for them, and enriched it 
with terms which flash on the dullest, and put the lowest up ! In 
doing this, he observed a moral syntax ; and some of his happiest 
efforts betray a strength of sense, and an inclination to support honour 
and correct feelings, which we have not particularly observed in the 
lucubrations of his successors and imitators." 

t According to Dr Johnson, Mischief is, " harm, hurt, lohatever is 
ill and injuriously done : " such, howevtT, never were the intentions of 
the Author and Artist. 



6 LIFE lx\ AND OUT OF ],OND()N, 

grossly flattered our character, both in prose and verse, 
when he states, in page 84, 

" Forgive me — and never, oh I never again 

I'll cultivate light blue or browu int'briety ; 
I'll give up all chance of a fracture or sprain, 

And part (worse than all) with PiEECE Egax's society." * 

Behold us, bright Goddess of Fame, paying court at thy 
most attractive shrine ! Behold us, too, overwhelmed with 
gratitude for the praises thou hast heaped on our humble 
eiforts : — ■ 

'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print, 
A booJi's a BOOK, although there's nothing in't ; 
Not that a TITLE'S f sounding charui can save 
Or scraiul or scribbler from an equal grave ! 



* "The Author of Boxiana— a gentleman of considerable talent 
and unassuming manners. His writings are replete with gaiety, infor- 
mation, and spirit ; and there are few authors who have made history 
the vehicle of so much life and whim as Mr Egan. He is an intelli- 
gent man in conversation, a clever pedestrian, and a pleasant singer. 
That man is no contemptible caterer of joy in life's feast, who can 
walk about and collect knowledge, write poetry on what he has seen, 
and sing it with a cheerful and good voice to his friends. Mr Egan 
deserves this note, and it is devoted to him." 

f " In these da', s, when everj' man who can read calls himself a 
man of letters, and all who can write set u\^ for authors; when almost 
every branch of literature has been stripjied, and little remains but 
to begin at the beginning again ; no small share of praise is due to the 
ingenious and daring avithor, who strikes into a new path, and pi-esents 
to the public view an object which has never been seen before, or has 
been forgotten. Tins is the gkeat merit of the ArTiioii of the 
BOOK BEFORE US. The task is a difficult one, and but few men can 
execute it. Of the utilitj' of such a work there can be no doubt, while 
Lond(m abounds as it does with imposture and temptation. It is exe- 
cuted with considerable taste and truth, and deserves to fill a respect- 
able rank among works of pmcticul 2'^"loso2)Jii/. It is one of the 
most amusing books lately published ; for our own part, but perhaps 
wo are partial, we prefer it to many of the sketches of mankind, which 
have appeared since the days of the ' Spectator.' ' Le Franc l^tir/iKr ' 
does not speak half so plainly as our hero. ' L' Htrniite dt la Cluiusse 
d'Antin,' leads too retired a life, and the 'Hermit in London ' is loo 



LIFE IN AM) OIT OF LONDON. 



Frightened at the vast expanse before us, and the perilous 
dangers of the attempt, we did invoke thy powerful aid 
towards the accomplishment of so important and difficult a 
task as a faithful and animated portraiture of Life in 
London. It is, therefore, gratifying to acknowledge our 
INVOCATION had the desired effect : that our orisons proved 
propitious to our wishes ; and our exertions to please, inte- 
rest, and put the various classes of society upon their guard, 
have been crowned with the most flattering success, infinitely 
beyond the highest measure of our expectations. 

AVe have been pirated, copied, traduced; but, unfortu- 
nateh', not enriched by our indefatigable exertions ; there- 
fore NOTORIETY must Satisfy us, instead of the smiles of 
Foktlne. Our efforts have given rise to numerous pro- 
ductions* in the market of literature ; yet we can assert. 



dandyish and vapid to compare with him. Geoffrey Crayon presents 
mere sketches, while Corinthian Tom gives finished portraits ; with 
all the delicacy and precision of Gerard Douw, he unites the bold- 
ness of EuBENS, and the intimate knowledge of Teniers." — European 
Magazine, November, 1820. 

* Independently of numerous other publications which did not come 
under the cognisance of the Author, the following list of Works, En- 
gravings, &c., appeared on the subject, calculated not only to produce 
employment, but profit to the various speculators . — 

Imprimis — Life in London, dramatised by Messrs Barrymore, Tom 
Dibdin, Moncrieffe, Charles Dibdin, Farrell, Jerrold, and Pierce Egan ; 
performing, with great eclat, at five Theatres in the Metropolis, during 
the Summer season of 1822 ; and at Astley's, Sadler's "Wells, East 
London, Surrey, and West London Theatres, to overflowing houses. 

Eeal Life in London ; a bare-faced piracy, published in sixpenny 
numbers, calculated to deceive the " good folks " in the country, and 
which also proved a great injury to the Proprietors of the original 
Work. More anon. 

Life in London, a play, published by Hodgson. 

Juvenile ditto, pubUt^hed bj^ Hodgson. 

Life in London, a play, published by Mason. 

Life in Dublin. 

Life iu Paris, published by Fairburn. 

Pilgrimage of Folly, published by Sams, a long plate in the form of 
a roller, representing the whole of the characters. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 



with a degree of confidence hitherto unshaken, that none of 
our Imitators have dared to think for themselves during the 



Newspapers — Pierce Egan's Life in London. 

Bell's ditto. 

High Life in London. 

Logic's Song Book. 

Life in London ; or, the Corinthians ; a new set of Quadrilles, 
composed by St. Albin. 

Pierce Egan's Fancy — a Country Dance. 

Corinthians' Song Book, with a plate, by Duncombe. 

Tom and Jerry's Collection of Songs. 

Five large Woodcuts of the Larks and Sprees of Tom and Jerry, 
published by Davis, of Astley's Theatre. 

Three ditto, drawn by George Cruikshank, for Sadler's Wells. 

Tom and Jerry's Mixture, a spirited Article and a prime Cordial for 
the use of His Majesty's Subjects. 

Tom and Jerry's Harmonic Meeting. 

Walbourn as Dusty Bob, a quarto Plate, drawn and engraved by 
George Cruikshank, was published at the Adelphi Theatre. 

Life in the Country. 

St. George's Fields. 

Tom and Jerry's Pony Paces, a Plate, by Clark. 

The Duets, Songs, &c., written by Mr. Moncrieffe, and sold at the 
Adelphi Theatre. 

The interior of Sadler's Wells Theatre, Pony Paces, &c., by George 
Cruikshank. 

A Plate of Mr. Russell, as I^ogic, in Dublin. 

Pierce Egan, as ditto, in London. 

A whole-length Portrait of Walbourn, in Dusty Bob, a Sign to his 
House, the Maidenhead, Battle Bridge ; painted in oil, by George 
Cruikshank. 

The Songs in Pierce Egan's Drama, sold at Sadler's Wells. 

Original Life in London, two numbers, by Marks. 

Smart's Characters of Tom and Jerry, &c. 

Martin's ditto. 

West and Mark's ditto. 

Tom and Jerry's Country Dances. 

New Harp Song Book, with a plate of Tom and Jerry. 

Plates of Tom and Jerry, by Groves. 

Life in London, a new Game. 

Corinthian Dinner at the Sir Hugh Myddleton's Head. 

Mr. Oxberry, in the Character of Jerry, a Plate. 

Theatrical Portraits of Tom and Jerry, by Hodgson. 

A Plate — Messrs. Wrench, Burroughs, and Wilkinson, as Tom, 
Jerry, and Logic, published by Lowndes. 

Mr. John Eeeve, as Jerry, a I'late. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 9 

long period of seven years, neither have the}- shewn anv 
originality upon the subject of Life in London ; but who 
have left it {disinterested souls !) to the Author and Artist 
to put a CLIMAX to the adventures of Tom, Jerry, and 
Logic. 

The popularity of Life in London was not alone con- 



The Tears of Pierce Egan for the Death of Life in London ; or, 
the Funei'al of Tom and Jerry, written by T. Greenwood, Esq., and 
engraved by George Cruikshank, price 2s. — The above production 
was pirated in less than twelve hours after its publication, by Catnach, 
and sold for Twopence. 

Life in London, a sheet of letterpress, with numerous Woodcuts — 
another wicked piracy, by Catnach. 

The Death of Tom and Jerry, a musical Burletta, by Greenwood, 
and performed at the Cobourg Theatre, with great applause. 

Looby Lump's Life in London, a Song, written by Bryant, with an 
Engraving, by George Cruikshank. 

Work for the Lawyers — Injunction to wit. 

The Eambles and Sprees of Tom and Jerry portraj^ed on Tea- 
boaids. 

Sporting a Toe amongst the Corinthians at Almacks in the West, a 
lively subject for the Ladies' Fans. 

Tom and Jerry in Trouble after a Spree, a good hit for Snuff-boxes. 

The elegant Cyprian, the feeling Coachman, and generous Magis- 
trate, a touch at the sentimental, quite proper for Handkerchiefs. 

Tom, Jerry, and Logic, sold as Sweetmeats — i.e., Sweet Fellows ! 

Numerous Ballads, in the Streets, &c. 

Doings in London, published by Smeeton — numerous Woodcuts, 
by Eobert Cruikshank. 

Life in London ; or. The Larks of Logic, Tom, and Jerry : an Ex- 
travaganza, in three acts, as performed at the Olympic Theatre, by 
Charles Dibdin. Price 2s. 

Tom and Jerry ; or, Life in London : a Whimsical and Equestrian 
Drama, in three acts, as performed at Davis's Royal Amphitheatre, 
with a coloured Plate. Price Is. 

Tread-mill ; or, Tom and Jerry at Brixton : a ilfiYZ-dramatic Bur- 
letta, in two acts, as performed at the Surrey Theatre, with a coloured 
and aqua-tinted Etching of "Life in a Slap-Bang Crib," and also 
" Life in a Mill." Price Is. 

Tom and Jerry in France ; or, Vive la Bar/afelle : a Musical Enter- 
tainment, in three acts, as peiformed at the Eoyal Cobourg Theatre, 
with a coloured Etching, by Cruikshank. Price Is. 

Bob Logic's Memoranda, an original Budget of Staves, nightly 
chaunted, by Kiddy Covies, Knights of the Darkey, &c.,at every "Free 
and Easy" throughout the Metropolis; by way of prelude to the 
Sprees of " Life in London," with two coloured Etchings. Price Is. 



10 LIFE IX AND OUT OF LONDON. 

fined to the closet, but the proprietors of the Minor 
Theatres seized hold of the scenes -with avidity ; and no 
less than six dramatic authors adapted it to the stage with 
the utmost expedition. The original AVork also went 
through several editions in a very short time ; and the 
Plates, by Robert and George Cruikshank, were con- 
sidered so full of amusement, that they were transferred to 
a variety of Articles without any loss of time. The Lady, 
in taking her gunpoicdcr, was enabled to araiuse her visitors 
with the adventures of Tom and Jerry on her highly- 
finished TEA-TRxVY. The lovers of Irish Blachcjuard 
experienced a double zest in taking a pinch from a BOX, 
the lid of which exhibited the laughable phiz of the 
eccentric Bob Logic. The Country Folks were delighted 
with the HANDKERCHIEF which displayed Tom getting 
the best of a Charley ; and Dusty Bob and Black Sal 
" all happiness ! " The Female of Quality felt interested 
wath the lively scene of the light fantastic toe at Almack's, 
when playing with her elegant FAN ; and the Connoisseur, 
with a smile of satisfaction on his countenance, contemplated 
his SCREEN, on which were displayed the motley groups 
of high and low characters continually on the move in the 
Metropolis. 

Life in London was first dramatised for the stage by 
Mr Barrymore, and thus annoimced in the bill : — " Royal 
Amphitheatre. Extraordinary Novelty and Eccentric Pro- 
duction. Monday, Sept. 17, 1821, at half -past six o'clock 
precisely, will be presented, never acted, an entii-ely New, 
Whimsical, Local, Melo-Dramatic, Pantomimical Drama, 
with new scenery, dresses, and mechanical changes, founded 
on Pierce EfiAN's popular Work, which has lately en- 
grossed the attention of all London, called " Life in London, 
or Day and Night Scenes of Tom and Jerry in their 
Rambles and Sprees through the Metropolis." The Piece 
prepared for stage representation by Mr W. Barrymore. 

" Corinthiau Tom, Mr Gomersal; Jerry Hawthorn, Mr JoxES ; 
and Bob Logic, Mr Herring."* 



The original Author, as a friend, assisted at the rehearsal of the 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. H 

The recent conduct of the Management, or the Proprietors 
of the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, may be offered as au 
apology for the introduction of the following facts, after 
their rejection of the Drama written by the original Author 
of this AVork. 

In a few days after the above piece had been so successful 
at Astley's Theatre, the Author sent the following letter to 
Mr. Harris, of Covent Garden : — 

September 22, 1821. 

Sir, — With the utmost respect and deference, I trust you will 
pardon this unceremonious mode of introducing myself to your notice, 
but, anxious to prevent loss of time, I have preferred waiving the 
formality of an introduction, and shall therefore, in a few words, 
briefly state the object of this letter. The Author of Life in London 
entertains an opinion, from the numerous day and night scenes of his 
heroes, described and represented by coloured plates in the above 
work, which has received such flattering and extensive patronage 
from the public, a most effective piece might be produced at Covent 
Garden Theatre, from the splendour of its establishment, united 
talents, and liberality of its Proprietor. The subject is inexhaustible ; 
and, in fact, quite theatrical — either to excite the most lively interest ; 
convey instruction ; produce roars of laughter ; elicit tears of sensi- 
bility ; "hold the mirror up to Natui-e ; " and, tnultum in parvo, to 
portray " a bit of good truth." To show likewise those persons from 
the country, a real Picture of London ; and also to cnvaken the 
Metropolitans as to the movements of the town, thousands of whom 
are still completely in the dark. But whether the above subjects 
might be embraced in a lively amusing pantomime, a musical drama, 
or an interesting comedy, requires some consideration : not only to 
wi'ite it with skill, but to execute it with taste and judgment. Of this, 
however, I am confident, that a most effective piece might be pro- 
duced; and I have it before me in my " mind's eye." A comedy, I 
am aware, has been produced from a single anecdote ; and a musical 
drama, also from the same source ; but the present subject is a 
nouvelle one altogether ; and it appears to me a regular story is not 
absolutely necessary ; but that the scenes of Life in London should pass 
in review before the audience, and, with some slight explanations 
between the characters, by way of dialogue, they would produce the 
desired and wished-for effect. 



above Piece, notwithstanding he had previously made an outline of a 
Drama for himself. Mr Barrymore's Burletta, was thouyht of, writ- 
ten, and got up, in little more than three days I 



12 LIFE IN AND OUT OF I.ONDOX. 

Perhaps. Sir, it is neces-ary to state, that I have been forestalled 
in this respect at Astley's a few days ance. The dramatist literally 
copied it from my work, and so great was the attraction, that although 
not above one new scene was painted for the Piece, yet Iate ts 
I>5Xl>ox produced, the first night (for the benefit of Mx Barrymore), 
£360 ; thirty pounds more than upon any previous occasion- 
Should you tt'inV the above communication worthy of your atten- 
tion, a line addressed to me, as under, will be duly attended to. bv 
your humble servant, 

P. EGA^r. 
Xetc Time* Ofitx. 

The following answer was received from Mr. Harris to the 
above letter : — 

Comd Garden Theaire, Sept^rr.her 2-5, 1821. 

SrE. — I shall be most happy to pay every attention to any dramatic 
piece vou may please to send me on the subject of " Life in London ; " 
perhaps, a musical comic after-piece, combining a display of scenery, 
may be the best form to put it before an audience ; but tiie manner 
of doing it. I leave entirely to your judgment, and can promise you 
an immediate perusaL — ^Yours, &c., 

H. TTAP.ma. 

Pierce Egan, Esq., Xew Time* OJSee. 

The above encouraging answer from Mr Harris produced 
another letter immediatelr upon the subject in question, the 
Author giving it as his opinion that the safest vehicle, and 
the most likely mode to succeed, would be a Pantomdce, in 
which the scenes of Life ia London might not only be ren- 
dered effective, but made to pass '' trippingly o'er the 
boards," by the help of the bat of the party-coloured hero : 
urging likewise, to the manager, that it was most laudable to 
caiLse the dumb to speak without the aid of the faculty, and 
make Harlequin, who had done so much with his heeh from 
time immemorial, turn about in 1S2"2, with quite a ne>.c face 
upon the matter, and convince the audience that he had a 
head upon his shotdders, although it had been so long sQent, 
and of no u^e to the spectators. It was proposed, also, that 
the " dear creature" Columbine should possess the advantages 
of putting in, now and then, a word or two of a sort for her- 
self, which must be considered by the lovers of eloquence 



LIFE IX AND OIT OF I.OXDOX. 13 

as an intellectual stej) in her favour : and that the i^iage lover 
of Columbine, instead of making icry faces, and distorting 
attitudes, should, according to the old-fashioned schools of 
Rich and Woodicard, be taught to express the ardent passion 
of love by some exquisite soft touches of the art, after the 
style of Moore : — 

Come o'er the sea, 
Maiden with me, 
Miue through sunshine, storm, and snows ; 
Seasons may roll, 
But the true soul 
Burns the same where'er it goes. 
Let Fate frown on, so we love and part not ; 
'Tis life were tltou art, 'tis death where thou art not. 



The Clown was not to be suffered to hold 'd foolish argument ; 
yet, nevertheless, was to be furnished with some prime jokes 
for the occasion ; but positively interdicted from uttering one 
tconl more than was set down for him. The legs and wings 
hero, designated as the Pantaloon, was to be permitted to 
turn his lingo to a good account towards supporting the 
interest of the scene : and the hopping, skipping, tumbling- 
about Daddy and Mammy of Miss Col. might then have been 
allowed to give "their tongues a little holiday," to add to 
the general amusement afforded by chaffing, so immediately 
connected with a representation of the great variety of comic 
scenes in Life ix London. 

Covent Garden Theatre, October 5. 
Mr Harris presents his compliments to Mr EoAjy, and will be 
happy to see him, if he can make it convenient to call either on 
Monday or Tuesday, about two o'clock, at the Theatre ; perhaps five 
minutes' conversation will do more than a long epistolary correspon- 
dence respecting the proposed dramatic adaptation of Life in London. 

The Author waited on Mr Harris according to the above 
appointment, and was very politely received by the pro- 
prietor of Covent Garden Theatre, on the stage. Mr Harris, 
after some little discussion on the subject, protested against a 
Pantomime ; he said, " it might have the appearance of a 
second-hand attempt, which ought to be avoided ; " and, there- 



14 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

fore, he proposed to the Author to turn his ideas towards a 
Comic Opera, and to furnish him with on outline, as soon as 
possible, in order to ascertain what exertions might be 
required in the scenic department, music, dresses, &c., as he 
was perfectly aware, from the variety of scenes which must 
necessarily be introduced into Life in London, great attention 
would be required to " get it up ! " To these suggestions the 
Author most cheerfully acquiesced — banishing all former 
notions of a Pantomime from his mind — cogitating as to a 
iiew feature on the subject ; and with the utmost alacrity 
furnished the following Bill of Fare for the consideration 
of Mr Harris : — 



LIFE IN LONDON 

PUT INTO SHAPE BY 

PIEECE EGAN, 

"Who trusts it will not be deemed unfair that he should take a LEAF 
or TWO Old of his OWN BOOK, several other persons having made 
very free with the Work. The Piece now prepared for representation 
is not entitled to the Appellation of TEAGEDY, Comedy, Opera, 
PLAY, Farce, Ballet, or Mdo-Drama, yet jpurtahing of the Quali- 
ties of all, and possessing Scenes high and low in abundance, from 
the " S% Parlour'' to the "Diamond Vaults OUT-and-OUT 
PAMBLES and SPEEES, East and West— and lots of Characters, 
UP and DOWN. A varietj- of Sivells, but no DoNS : Corinthians 
and Costard-Mongers of many hues and colours : Flats and 
Sharps, without a Note — Pinks and Tulips, but no Flowers, yet 
always in the Hot-Houses : and Hells without Devils, only having 
Black Legs. MuSLlNS and HoPSACKS, according as the creatures 
wear them: the whole forming a "BIT OE GOOD TEUTH," en 
passant, in a Eeview of LIFE JN LONDON, developed by a pre- 
cious TEIO, in the person of a Top-of -the- Tree Hero, UP and 
dressed in all SUITS : seconded by a slap-hang Countryman, that 
neither hedge nor ditch baulks his pursuits ; and in unison with a 
pi-ime piece of LOGIC, without Premises, j'et always so much at 
HOME, that Locke and Bacon were Muffs to him ; also represent- 
ing the NOBLE, EESPECTABLE, MECHANICAL, and Tag, 
Hag, and Bob-Tail part of Society, which constitute the COEIN- 
TUIAN CAPITAL, and Base of the Pillar. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 15 

ACT I.— LIFE IN THE COUNTRY. 

I.— LIFE AT SUNRISE. 

Hawthorn Wood. — How to shoot flying — Xever at fault — Xo birds, 
but plenty of game — How to pluck a Primrose, but not without prick- 
ing the Fingers. The Cream of the Jest — The baulk, and scent lost 
— Tim as good as his Master — The Yellow Flag hoisted : and retire- 
ment necessary for all Parties. 

2.— LIFE IN A MANOR HOUSE. 

HiniAhorn Hall. — The beauties of Nature — The heart that feels, but 
wants utterance — Fashion versus Rusticity. Bold as Brass, yet 
timid and bashful. Curiosity uppermost, and I will have a peep if I 
die for it. The Countryman and Londoner, a set off ; but the 
advantage of elegance and impression of gentlemanly conduct personi- 
fied. — An interview removes many fears and prejudices. Sporting 
Subjects, but no fun : yet exercise the best Medicine. 

3.— LIFE IN A VILLAGE. 

Haiothorn Green. — Caught on the sly : but those that love will feel 
it, without one word on the subject. — Good-bye, easier talked of than 
performed. Melody without Art : and tenderness expressed without 
affectation. Hope the only consolation : London in perspective. 

4. -LIFE IN THE FIELD. 

Sportsman's Cabinet. — Description of a Fox Chase — the ardour of 
Sportsmen — Brusher and Victor in pursuit of Old Sly Boots — Rej-- 
nard at his last shifts — The "View Halloo," and in at the death. 
Friendship over a glass — The Farmer in his true character — A jollifi- 
cation — Harmony, but little singing. Toasting till under the table. 
The Old Ones mistaken ; and the Cockney not so easily got rid of, as 
expected. 

5.— LIFE AT HARVEST HOME. 

Hawthorn PaddocJc. — Patty with the same feelings as my Lady ; and 
Tim as jealous as my Lord — Nature never wrong. A Kiss puts all 
to rights — Broken Heads, but no mischief : all in the way of pastime. 
Dancing, but no Waltzing or Quadrilles — All merry and happy — The 
Road to London in view, and off like a shot. 



ACT II.— LIFE IN LONDON. 

6.— SLAP-UP LIFE. 

Corinthian- House Chaffing Crib. — A Man's Father born before him 
— Bainboivs and Slaveys : NATURE will j^eep at times ; all made of the 
same flesh and blood : only togrjed differently. First impressions of 



16 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

London on the ioppcr of a Yokel — Pictures dangerous ; then beware 
of originals. Training for an OUT and OUTER; or how to queer the 
Ogies : yet necessary to look like an Upper Customer of Society, if 
nothing else. Introduction of a Chaff Cutter : Jerry not aivake ; 
more brains wanting — and quite at a standstill for the want of a New 
Book on Patter. The Synonymy of Flash developed. Taking mea- 
sure of a man's pocket, more than his back — a prime artist: and how 
to cut a figure : Jerry di-essed for the Part — Music over, the Promp- 
ter's call obeyed — Curtain up — and a toddle on the Grand Theatre of 
the World — a peep, e?i passant, at the Show-Shop. 

7. _FOUE- IN-HAND LIFE. 

Tatter saVs. — Can't know too much — A " look in " at Tattersal's, and 
no time lost — Notions of honour — A man's word as good as his Blunt 
— Bits of Blood, and Prime Tits in abundance — Booking, but not 
common-place — Studs floored by a single hit — Alterations of Life like 
a Pantomime ; and the motley hero's bat not more rapid in producing 
a change than Tattersal's hammer. — Match-making. 

8.— LIFE IN THE SHOW-SHOP. 

Buckingham House, St. James's Park. — Not keeping time — The 
Ladies on the fret. Pit-a-Pat, or " My heart with love is beating." — 
Have you got the Licence ? No ; I've been to Tattersal's — It's too bad : 
I'll not put up with it — A kind look, or a tender word, does wonders — 
The art of persuasion — and I'll try him once more. 

9.— LIFE IN THE CAEDS. 

The Old Hag's Oarret. — Found out — A Portrait, but no likeness of 
a Husband — How are we deceived ? — The Magic Mirror, yet no reflec- 
tion — Cards will beat their Makers — The Fortune teller not aware of 
her own destiny — Trick and tie — Imisosition exposed; and errors 
acknowledged — A good lesson for the unwary. 

10.— LIFE IN THE FANCY. 

Jackson's Booms. — Corinthians only admitted — True courage the 
support of Britons — to resent or forgive the order of the day — the good 
Old English mode of settling a dispute — Leave off when you like — 
No daggers — no Widows — and no Orphans left, but the Knowledge 
Box made aivake by one or two re-MARKS made upon it — reading not 
necessarj'- to explain it : and the proper use of the Fives taught to 
chastise vulgar ignorance and Brutal Strength. 

11.— KNOWLEDGE OF LIFE. 

Chaffing-Crih {Corinthian House). — Character everj'thing in 
Life — difficult, perhaps, at all times to support it ; but, nevertheless, it 
ought never to bo lost sight of; no good performances can be done 
without it. A " New Readings "of the Beggars' Opera — Tom, Jerry, 
and Logic, the principal parts ; but without a High Toby Hero. 



LIFE IX AND OUT OF LONDON. 17 

12.— LIFE IN THE BACK SLUMS. 

Bijot Street, in the Holy Ln ml. — Flat catch i )hj ^ Who bites? A 
fine picture; but no painting. " All Alive, O I " Effective enough 
to have put a 'Michael Axgelo into a reverie; and for a Rnhens to 
have been lost with surprise : a dark subject — Hypocrisy and deceit 
fining up the back-ground. Ease before mannas — no Starch wanted 
—Soap out of the Question — nothing to do with the New Hirer Com- 
pany — and Togs only necessary to answer purposes. To live and be 
jolly the object in view. 

13.— LIFE IN ANTICIPATION. 

Corinthian Kate's Boudoir. — The Tickets have arrived, my dear : 
but I can't go in that Old Silk — Must have something New — Mrs. 
Dash has ordered a Splendid Dress, and I should not like to be 
eclipsed by her — Come, my dear, let us go a shopping. 

14.— CLEANED-OUT LIFE. 

Return Home to the Chaffing-C'rib. — A Fig for regularity — Get over 
the ground if it breaks your neck — Peep-o'-Day Boys — No time for 
Eoost — Don't want it in Life in London — too game to think about it. 
Beat all Colours at Bed and Black — Pockets to let — Forty winks as 
j'ou can get them, to keep the Shutters open for another turn — 
Eeflections will intrude — asking one's self a few questions ? A good 
lesson for the Young Ones, who ought to profit by it, before they are 
floored never to be i^icked up again. Be wise in time. 

15.— LIFE IN THE WEST. 

AlmacFs Assembly Boom. — A foi(f7? at the Superb: the advantages 
of Birth : Born with Silver Spoons in the Mouth. Splendour till 
you are tired of it. Corinthians but no Commoners : all toj^-of-the- 
tree folks : Politeness to the very echo : and refinement to the 
end of the chapter — Brilliants covered with diamonds : and the 
Fair Ones as good as gold : and no double shuffle or false steps. A 
thorough-bred Scene — HIGH LIFE in perfection — and climax of 
Society in the Metropolis. 



ACT III.— RAMBLES AND SPREES. 

Or, the DANGER expospd of being put Fly, Up, Awake, Leary, 
Down, and being FINISHED ! \ ! 

That's the time of day, my PINKS — Secrets worth knowing. 

16.— DAFFY CLUB LIFE. 

Belcher's Parlour, Castle Tavern. — Here I am, blow my dickey : 
the Daffy Club ; a spirited Sketch of the Fancy blowing a cloud over 
heavy wet, and Glasses of Combustibles : Blue Devils not admitted; 

c 



18 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

Oiit-and-Outers — Trumps — Oood-ones — Catollers : the means of 
keeinng a Licence : and Coves that may be trusted alone. The 
DafFy Chaunt — Daffy explained by the President — Where is it to be ? 

17.— LIFE IN SPIRITS. 

Toiver Hill. — Jolly as Sand Boys — with a handful of soft to spend 
— A rich scene in view — Push along — all anxious for a treat. 

18.— LIFE IN THE EAST. 

The contrast — All-Max — Ilop-Panny . — Tickets not necessary — 
Any Port in a Storm — Never a Jack without a Jill — all happiness : no 
questions asked : and one half of the World don't know how the other 
half lives. No matter ! Plenty of Taste ; iKitter without ceremony ; 
and not particular to a shade about Linc/o. Sporting a Toe without a 
Shoe, and no inquiry after the SnoVs Bill — ^ee?/?i(/ without Steps; 
fiooring instead of ivaltzing ; and nothing the matter. Country or 
Colour no objection ; Ladles in mournivfj not prohibited — Black Sail 
don't blush for her appearance ; and Dustj- Bob not uneasy about his 
toggery. 

19.— UP AND DOWN LIFE. 

Toiver Hill, at night. — The Upper Story all abroad, Mr. Lushington 
at Work — and when the wine is in, the wit is out — Ripe for anything 
— go along, Bob. 

20.— LIFE IN A SPREE. 

Temple Bar. — Coffee-shop Macing — Won't stand it — A regular 
blow-up from the Coves — a prime Singing-bird — a row — a Street Mill 
— How to make a stop-watch go — Nobs in trouble — a turn-out of 
Bulkers and Roosters — Cross and Square Coves — all upon the look- 
out to have " the best " of the darkey. 

21.— LIFE IN A TURN-UP. 

Getting into CnANCERY-Zajje. — Don't be too sure — Certainties 
sometimes doubtful — The case in point — Tom, Jerry, and Logic get 
the worst of it. 

22.— LIFE IN A SCOUT KEN. 
Interior of a Watch House. — Consequence, gemmen must be heard 
first — Here's my card — I'm an M.P., an H.S., and a G.S. The Gam- 
mon won't do — Old Snoozy awake, and the Charley perfect in his 
part, with his stage property to give it effect — Won't stand being 
booked for the Night — shew fight, and bolt. 

23.— EFFECTS OF LIFE. 
Chaffing Crib — Darky over. — Jerry's symptoms of uneasiness — 
Cracked Heads — debilitated — out of wind — can't come to time ; and 
the Constitution fast on the decline ; Logic lumbered ; and Tom done 



T.TFK IN ANT) OIT OF LONDON. 19 

vp — portraying that LIFE in LONDON, without the check-string, is 
a rapid trot towards Death I Jerry sees his folly — acknowledges his 
error — Hawthorn Hill in perspective — Jerry united to Mary Rosebnd 
— Tom and Corinthian Kate made hajipy. 

After the exertions manifested by the Author to produce 
a Musical Burletta, instead of a Pantomime, in order to 
meet the wishes of the Proprietor of Covent Garden Theatre 
— after the numerous thiukiugs, scvntcliinfjs of the head, 
biting the thumb nail, twisting and twirling the subject to 
pieces, loss of repose, and the hopes and fears attached to 
authorship : the following polite, but ie;/ sort of note, very 
soon put the matter to rest, as to Tom and Jerry having a 
turn-iij) on the boards of a Theatre Royal : — 

Covent Garden Theatre, December 4, 1821. 

Sir, — The subject of Life in London has now become so hacknied 
by its production at the Minor Theatres, that I should despair of its 
proving successful with us, particularly as, according to your sketch, 
I perceive it must take nearly the same feature. I return it, therefore, 
with my thanks, and I am. 

Your obedient servant, 

H. Harris. 
Pierce Egan, Esq., Xeiv Times Office. 

After the above unexpected disappointment, well might 
the poor scribbler exclaim — 

Where now are all my flattering dreams of joy ? 

Most certainh^, '* something too much of t/iaiilis ! " 

In the second instance. Life in London was dramatised 
by Charles Dibdin, Esq., and thus set forth in the bill — 
" Olympic Theatre, Newcastle-street, Strand. On Monday, 
Nov. 12, 1821, and following evenings, will be presented a 
new Extravaganza of Fun, founded on Pierce Ehan's 
highly popular Work, and interspersed with a variety of 
Airs and Graces, called Life in London. 

" Tom (a Capital of the Corinthian Order), Mr Baker. 

" Jerry Hawthorn (out of Order, and more of the Composite than 
the Corinthian, never intended for the Church, though fond of a 
Steeple Chase), Mr. Oxberry ; and 



20 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

" Logic (a Choi)ping Boy, ' full of wise saws and modern instances '), 
Mr Vale." 

Mr MoNCRiEFFE appeared as the tliird on the list of 
dramatists, and it was announced at the Adelphi Theatre in 
the following stjde :— " On Monday, Nov. 26, 1821, will be 
presented for the first time, on a scale of unprecedented 
extent (having been many weeks in preparation, under the 
superintendence of several of the most celebrated Artists, 
both in the Ups and Doicns of Life, who have all kindly 
come forward to assist the Proprietors in their endeavours 
to render this Piece a complete out-and-outer), an entirely 
new Classic, Comic, Operatic, Didactic, Aristophanic, Lo- 
calic. Analytic, Panoramic, Camera-Obscura-ic Extrava- 
ganza Burletta, of Fun, Frolic, Fashion, and Flash, in three 
acts, called TOM and JERRY, or Life in London. Re- 
plete with Prime Chaunts, Rum Glees, and Kiddy Catches, 
founded on Pierce Egan's well-known and highly popular 
Work of the same name, by a celebrated extravagant erra- 
tic Author. The Music selected and modified by him, from 
the most eminent Composers, ancient and modern, and 
every Air furnished with an attendant train of Graces. The 
costume and scenery superintended by Mr I. R. Cruik- 
SHANK, from the Drawings by himself and his brother, Mr 
George Cruikshank, the celebrated Artists of the ori- 
ginal Work. 

"Corinthian Tom, Mr Wrench; Jerry Hawthorn, Mr W. Bur- 
roughs; and Logic, Mr Wilkinson. Dustj Bob,* Mr Wal- 

BOURN." 

* The personification of Dusty Bob, by the above actor, has been 
unanimously decided by the public to be one of the greatest triumphs 
of the histrionic art ever exhibited upon the stage. The first trage- 
dian of the day, with the utmost liberality, gave it as his opinion, 
that, during the whole course of his theatrical life, he had never seen 
any performance equal to it. Also, a comic actor of the greatest 
celebrity, exchiimed, "Good heaven! is it possible? Do my eyes 
deceive mo ? Most certainly it is a real dustman thej'- have got upon 
the stage. I am very sorry the profession has descended so low as to 
be compelled to resort to the streets to procure a person of that 
description to sustain the character." Further compliments to Mr 
Waluourn would be superfluous. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 21 

" It is scarcely necessary to observe," says Mr Mon- 
CRiEFFE, " this drama is founded on the ' Life in Lon- 
don ' of my friends Pierce Egan and the inimitable 
CRriKSHANK. Aided by Pierce's clever illustrations to 
the matchless series of Plates in that work, I have, in this 
piece, endeavoured to put them into dramatic motion : and 
to those venerable noodles who complain that I and my 
prototj'pe. Pierce, have made this the age of Flash, I 
answer— Mv age is better than the ' AGE OF CANT.' " * 



* "This Piece," says Mr Moncrieffe, "obtained a popularity, 
and excited a sensation, totally unprecedented in theatrical history : 
from the highest to the lowest, all classes were alike anxious to 
witness its representation. Dukes and dustmen were equally inte- 
rested in its performance ; and peers might be seen mobbing it with 
apprentices to obtain an admission. Seats were sold for weeks 
before they could be occupied ; every theatre in the United Kingdom, 
and even in the United States, enriched its coffers by performing it ; 
and the tithe portion of its profits would for ever have rendered it 
unnecessary for its author to have troubled the public with any 
further productions of his muse. It established the fortunes of most 
of the actors engaged in its representation, and gave birth to several 
newspapers, more than one of which are even now in existence. The 
success of ' The Beggars' Opera,' ' The Castle Spectre,' and 
' PiZARRO,' sunk into the shade before it. ' In the furor of its popu- 
larity, persons have been known to travel post from the farthest part 
of the Kingdom to see it ; and five guineas have been offered in an 
evening for a single seat.' 

"With respect to the cry of immorality, so loudly raised by those 
inimical to the success and plain speaking of this piece, it is soon 
answered I Saying nothing of the envj' of rival Theatres feeling its 
attraction most sensibly in their Saturday treasuries, those notorious 
pests, the Watchmen, dexterously joined in the war-howl of detraction 
raised against it, and, converting every trifling street-broil into a 
'' Tom and Jerry Bow," endeaxoxived to revenge themselves for the 
exjyose its scenes afforded of their villainy and extortion ; but all in 
vain. In vain, too, the Actor's old rival, the Methodists, took the 
alarm — in vain they distributed the whole of the stock of the Reli- 
giuics Tract Society at the doors of the Theatre — in vain they de- 
nounced " Tom and Jerry" from the pulpit — in vain the puritanical 
portion of the press prated of its immorality — in vain the prejudices 
of the stiff-backed part of the Bench — the hypocritical host of Saints 
cried it down, and preached woe and destruction to those who sup- 
ported it — they but increased the number of its followers and added 
to its popularity. Vainly, too, was the Lord Chamberlain called ui on 



22 LIFE IX AND OUT OF LONDOX. 

In point of fact, we cannot agree with the correctness of 
the statement given by our friend, Mr Moncrieffe, in the 
following words — " that the characters of Tom, Jerry, and 
Logic were auto-hiograiphical sketches of the artists to whom 
they originally severally owe their being. The talented, 
spirited George Cruiksha^k was himself, in all the better 
points, the spirited Tom he has so admirably delineated ; 
his very clever brother Isaac — then, perhaps, less experi- 
enced — condescended to pass for Jerry ; and the doicney 
Pierce (' none but himself can be his parallel ') was his 
own Logic. Having, tria junda in nno, produced the ad- 
mirable foundation of this Piece, may they speedily furnish 
the public with some more of their Larks, Sprees, and 
Rambles — the world will thank them for their gift." 

However difficult it may haA^e been to obtain the right 
clue, and however frequent may have been the failures of 



to svippress it — his Grace came one night to see it, and brought his 
Duchess the next. Our present pious Licenser will hold up his hands 
at this ! It was nearly the same with the Chief Magistrate of Bow 
Street : his experience rendered him perfectly sensible, that, long 
before the appearance of " Tom and Jerry " young men and country 
gentlemen would, in moments of hilaritj', sometimes exceed in their 
potations, be provoked into quarrels by designing Watchmen, and 
consigned, for purposes of extortion on the following morning, to his 
honoui- the Xight Constable ; but, according to the Saints' accounts, 
to believe their tales, it must be held as a point of faith, that no one 
previous to the appearance of " Tom and Jtrry " ever got into a row ! 
Oh, no — drinking and all its train of follies were unknown to youth, 
until inculcated into their minds by the example of " Tom and Jerry .'" 
How many an imsuspecting country cousin has been converted, in 
the public 2>rints, through an hour of harmless frolic, into a Jekry ; 
while his equally unconscious town relation figui-ed as Toil, and any 
honest plodder they might have with them is transformed into a 
Logic, his first ajipearance in that character. The thing speaks for 
itself : the hue and cry of the immorality and danger of the Piece was 
raised merely for the purjioses of plunder, bj' Watchmen and others. 
So far from being immoral, if the Piece be fairly examined, it will be 
found to be as correct in its tendency as any production ever brought 
on the Stage. The obnoxioua scenes of life are only shewn that they 
may be avoided : the danger of mixing in them is strikingly exempli- 
fied ; and every incident tends to prove, that happiness is only to be 
found in the don.estic circle.'' 



LIFE IX AND OUT Or LONDON. 23 

the soi-didant knowiug- folks — laying the flattering unction 
to their souls in behalf of "dear se/f; "* and great also as 
the puzzle may have proved to the public at large, to ascer- 
tain the idcntitij of the heroes of Life in London, it has 
been generally admitted by the admirers of o]i a racier that 
the above Portraits bear the marks of originality ; the 
lights and shades properly depicted ; the colouring after 
Nature ; and the tout ensemble immensely attractive : al- 
though we cannot conclude, in the phraseology of the artist, 
that they were in "good-keeping ! " 

Lest men suspect your tale untrue, 
Keep PKOBABILITY in view : 
The trav'ler leaping o'er these bounds, 
The credit of his BOOK confounds : 
Who, with his tongue, hath armies routed. 
Makes even his real courage doubted ; 
But flatt'ry never seems absurd. 
The flattered always take your word : 
Impossibilities seem just — 
They take the strongest praise on trust ; 
Hyperboles, tho' e'er so great. 
Will still come short of self-conceit. 

So very like a painter drew, 
That every eye the picture knew ; 
He hit complexion, feature, aii', 
So just, the LIFE itself was there : 
No flatt'ry with his colours laid. 
No bloom restored the faded maid ; 
He gave each muscle all its strength — 
The mouth, the chin, the nose's length. 



* It is too true that the Author and Artist have been frequently 
assailed by impertinent questions as to the reality of Tom, Logic, 
and Jerry ! ' One instance will suffice ; During the walk of the 
Author on a popular race-course, he was accosted by a person whose 
physiognomy, if properly expressed, was any thing but sijjldhj, and 
whose dress and address were equally at variance with the good man- 
ners and taste of a gentleman ; biit who, nevertheless, gave himself a 
mighty aii- of self-importance, and, with the most unblushing effron- 
tery, thus began : — " Sir, I have been informed that, from my habits 
of stj'le, fashion, and gay mode of life, your model of CoElNTiilAN 
Tom has been taken ; in fact, I am generally known amongst my 
friends by the above appellation." Such ignorance, of course, 
must be hliss /" 



2\ LIFE IN AND OIT OF LOXDON. 

His hoiieiit pencil toucli'd with truth, 
And mark'd the date of ago and youth. 
He lost his friends, his practice fail'd ; 
Truth should not always be reveal'd ; 
In dusty pile his pictures lay. 
For no one sent the second day. 

Two bustos, fraught with ev'ry grace — 
A Venus and Apollo's face — 
He placed in view. Resolved to please, 
Whoever sat, he drew from these — 
From these corrected ev'ry feature. 
And spirited each awkward creatiu'e. 

All things were set — the hour was come — 
His pallet ready o'er his thumb : 
A lady came — with borrow'd grace 
He from his Venus formed her face. 
Her lover yraised the painter's art ; 
So like the pictui-e in his heart ! 

To ev'ry age some charm he lent ; 
Ev'n beauties were almost content : 
Through all the town his AET they praised : 
His custum grew, his price was raised. 
Had he the EEAL LIKENESS shewn, 
Would any man the PICTUKE own ? 
But when thus happilj'^ he wrought. 
Each found the LIKENESS in his thought. 

The notoriety whicli the Rambles and Sprees of Tom and 
Jerry obtained in England very soon make its way across 
the Channel — became the topic of conversation amongst 
our Gallic neighbours- — nay, it crept so much into favour 
with the gay folks of Paris, that Life in London was 
speedily translated into French,* and the translation had a 
most extensive circulation in France. 



'■>■ LU'E IN London. — A translation has just been published in Paris 
(1822) of Pierce Egan's " Life in London," undei" the title of " The 
English Piorama ; or. Picturesque Eambles in London; containing 
the most faithful Notices of the Cliaracier, Manners, and Customs of 

liie h'ny/isJi Nation, in the various Classes of Society. By M. S ." 

Un this work a French critic makes the following observations : — 

" A great deal has been written on Paris, and yet this great city 
still affords scope for innumerable remarks. Fewer works have been 
l)ublishod respecting Tiondon, all hough that immense capital contains 
at least three hundred thousand iuliabilants more Ihan ours. From 



LIFK IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 25 

The reception of Life in London was equally flatterin«i-, 
notwithstauding great prejudices had previously existed 
against Tom and Jerry in Dublin. It should seem that 
Mr Harris had somewhat changed his opinion respcctino- 



that circumstance, the ample harvest which there still awaits the 
observer may easily be estimated. Too frequently, however, tra- 
vellers, and especially sjDeculating travellers, view a foreign country 
only under the influence of the prejudices which they have imbibed 
in their own, and wish to make everything correspond with the 
notions they have previously conceived. There are others who would 
be more faithful in their descriptions, but a crowd of circumstances 
shackle their inquiries ; and in sj^ite of all their vigilance, many 
errors result from a want of their intimate knowledge of the language, 
customs, and usages of a country. None of these obstacles diminish 
the accuracy of the details of the work before us. It is an English- 
man, and an Englishman ah-eady known by several esteemed descrip- 
tire PuVUoitions, who has here painted bis countrymen — Pierce 
Egan, the author of ' The Picture of London,' and who maybe called 
the Mercier of England, has, like him, carefully studied the manners 
of all classes of the community. He conducts his readers from the 
royal palace to the most miserable pot-house, the resort of beggars 
and the dregs of the people. Such, indeed, in these latter scenes is 
the scrupulous fidelity of his pencil, that the enlightened taste of his 
translator has frequently induced him to soften the features of the 
picture ; which is not, as we shall by-and-by see, the only obligation 
under which French readers are to him. 

" Want of space prevents me from prolonging these curious details. 
I will confine myself, therefore, to recommend to readers the excel- 
lent remarks on London in the first chapter, which, as well as several 
other valuable passages, belong to the translator, or rather the imi- 
tator of Pierce Egan's work. If these additions contribute mate- 
rially to the success of the book, the suppi-essions which M. S 

has made are no less useful. Dictated by a sound discretion and 
considerable tact, they include several long digressions, and some 
circumstances which would wound at the same time delicacy and 
French taste. But M. S has taken care not to injure the origi- 
nality of the work, nor to deprive it of that foreign character which it 
was so important to preserve. What renders the work one of the 
most valuable which has appeared in England and London, are the 
four-and-twenty engravings, which represent almost all the incidents 
described in the book. It would be difficult to unite more of local 
truth with satirical originality. The advertisement tells us that they 
are from the arch pencil of Mr Cruiksiiank. He, like the author, 
may congratulate himself on having caused us ' to see Life in Lou- 
don,' and on having, as was said of Charles Vernet, composed 
' Epigrams of design.' " 



26 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

the above piece having been so much " hacknied;" * and 
considering it as a profitable speculation, he engaged il/r 
Wrench to perform the part of Corinthian Tom at the 
Dublin Theatre. The first seven nights produced £1300, 
and the house, on Mr Wrench's Benefit, held £345. 

At both the theatres in Edinburgh, Tom and Jerry 
attracted ci'owded audiences, according to the Editor of the 
Edinhiirfjh Dramatic Renew, who thus states : — 

" At length the public of Edinburgh have had an oppor- 
tunit}^ of judging of the merits of the above celebrated Ex- 
travaganza. From the general tendency of the remarks 
which appeared in the newspapers, we were led to suppose 
that this piece consisted of indecency and gross vulgarity. 
From what we heard reported as to the numerous indeli- 
cacies which this sketch of ' Fun, Frolic, Fashion, and Flash,' 
contained, we were afraid that its success with our sober 
citizens would have been precarious ; but we are happy to 
say that the applause which was bestowed on it by the 
unprecedentedly numerous assemblage on Saturday even- 
ing, January 25, 1823, which crowded the Caledonian 
Theatre, is a sufiicient answer to the chimerical doubts 
which were industriously circulated against its propriety. 
There is nothing, as we before remarked, associated with 
disgust or offence. There was neither one word, action. 



* Mr. Monckieete's Buiietta had then been performed ninety -ihree 
nights in succession ; and its golden career only stopped by the termi- 
nation of the season, to the great grief of the proprietors, but a source 
of joy to the persons immediately connected with the stage. The 
hones of the poor performers were of "no use " to them, and the room 
of the Actors, in the front of the house, was much better " li/a'd than 
their comj^any ; " indeed, they were interdicted from availing them- 
selves of the privileges belonging to performers, owning to the scarcity 
of places, every inch being of the greatest importance (in a pecuniary 
point of view) to the Proprietors, who, it is whispend, picked up in 
their RamUes and S2>rees between thirteen and fourteen thousand St. 
Gkokge and Dkagons I CoiKpurivg fellows upon any suit ! In the 
rant pliraae of the day, it must bo admitted, that it was hir/c-ing to a 
good account ! 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF I.ONDOX, 27 

or situation, in the whole course of the piece, that could pos- 
sibly raise a blush or offend the most fastidious moralist." 

In consequence of the Author's Drama having been 
rrjcded by the Proprietor of Covent Garden Theatre, no 
opportimity offered for its performance, until the Summer 
Season commenced at the minor Houses. Thus was the 
" unfortunate wight's Operatic Burletta " thrown out for six 
months ! At length an opening occurred, when the Author's 
Piece, under the respectable management of Mr. Egerton, 
was " got up" and performed, for the first time, at Sadler's 
"Wells, on Monday, April 8, 1822, with the most decided 
success. * 



* The Morning Herald of Tuesday and Thursday, April 9 and 11, 
stated as follows : — "Yesterday evening this theatre opened for the 
season, with a new piece, founded on the popular work of Life in 
London, and entitled Tom and Jerry. From its title one might sup- 
pose it to be nothing more than a third edition, hashed up with some 
new seasoning and scenery, of pieces under a similar title, which have 
already appeared at two minor theatres ; but it differs from both of 
these almost in everj^thing except the names of the principal charac- 
ters, and their progress through the fashionable and vulgar vices of 
the metropolis. This difference may be accounted for by the circum- 
stance of Mr EGA2f, the author of the original work, having been em- 
ployed by the Manager of this theatre to put the story into a dramatic 
shape : and he has performed that task in a masterly style. Other 
dramatisers copied nearly the same words of Mr Ega:s^'s book, but Mr 
Egan has plagiarised from himself as cautiously and sparingly as 
possible; for he has not only introduced several new scenes, and 
rejected others that were ah'eady exhibited, but he has given a new 
version to the whole, and enriched every passage with fresh accessions 
of humour, fun, and laughable slang. Not a single passage hung heavy 
on the attention of the audience even for a moment, not an exuberant 
sentence was uttered, and every succeeding scene called forth increased 
peals of laughter from a crowded company. The concluding scene 
was admirable ; because, without presenting any painful catastrophe 
that might throw a damp over the spirits, it conveyed a short but im- 
pressive moral lesson on the folly and danger to health and reputation 
attending the nightly sprees and profligate adventures which young 
men of fortune are too much in the habit of encountering. The thii'd 
and last act concluded with a pony race upon a course which sur- 
rounded the whole of the pit and the stage : it had a very fine effect." 

"Pierce Egan's whimsical and singular production, which was 
slightly noticed in the LLeraJd of Tuesday last, has been since per- 
f jruied, with increased effect, to crowded houses. It differs from tho 



28 LIFE TX AND OUT OF LONDON. 

It was thus announced bj' Mrs Egerton in the Address 
written for the occasion by T. Greenwood, Esq. : — 

" To-night, my friends, this modern taste to meet, 
We shew you Jerry at his country seat ; 
Then up to town transport the rustic beau, 
And shew him ' Life in London,' HIGH and low." 

Corinthian Tom, Mr Elliot ; Jerry Hawthorn, Mr Keeley ; and 
Bob Logic, by Mr Vale. 



pieces hitherto brought out under the same title in this respect, that, 
instead of a succession of unconnected extravaganzas, it presents an 
interesting tale, where two females, Curinthian Kate and Mary Rose- 
hud, distinguished as much for virtue as for good humour and plea- 
santry, are eventually united to their reformed lovers. So far the piece 
merits the name of a Comic Ojiera ; and, indeed, it gives as rich a 
picture of low life as the celebrated Bti/gars' Ojjera of Gay, without 
any of the terrible satire on ruling authorities and on human natui-e 
which pervades almost every passage of the latter work. While the 
vagabond manners of the age are strictly portrayed, one feels no more 
hatred to the individuals therein described than is necessary to deter 
one from associating with them. In the beginning of the first act there 
are some fine scenes of rural sport and rural love. The subsequent 
exhibitions present us with various characters in this great Metropolis, 
not such as they ought to be, but such as they are. The lowest are, 
unquestionably, the most exquisite, because Nature there bursts forth 
without any of the restraints of education or the trammels of art ; and 
the conversations which take place, while they are managed with the 
finest humour, are free from everything indelicate or offensive. This 
feature in the piece is particularly consjncuous when Tovi, Jerry, and 
Loyic pay a visit in disguise to the hack slums of St. Giles's. These 
are a motley society of mendicant imposters, in rags and tatters, who 
meet at night to spend the produce of their daily industrj- in luxurious 
enjoyment ; and who, with affected importance, attempt to give such 
philosophical reasons as may justify them in disdaining to earn money 
by bodily labour. But the scene of All-max in the East exceeds all 
the others in fun and merriment. Here is exhibited a collection of all 
the blackguards in the vicinity of Wapping, dancing to the music of a 
lame fiddler, and cheering their spirits with heavy u-et and hhie ruin — 
in other words, porter and gin. The chief personage in this assembly 
is Dusty Boh, a follow who has a black wench, called African Sal, 
under his protection, and who, by his humour and slang, keeps the 
whole audience in a roar of laughter for near a quarter of an hour. 
Tlio character is inimitably performed. The piece, in fact, excites 
Ijoijictual merrimoiit from beginning to end ; while the fable excites 
no small t^hare of interest ; and we do not think that the cause of 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 29 

The Burlctta of Tom and Jerry bad been repeated so 
often all over the kingdom, and particularly in the Metro- 
polis, that the performers, notwithstanding the great applause 
tlicy nightly received in the above piece, absolutely became 
tired and worn-out with the repetition of their characters, 
when the following piece of satire, written by T. Greenwood, 
Esq., was published, entitled. The Tears of Pierce Egan 
for the Death of Life in London ; or, the Funeral of 
Tom and Jerry : dedicated to Robert and George Cruik- 
SHAXK, Esqrs. 

Beat out of the Pit and tlirown over tlie Eopes, 
Tom and Jerry resign'd their last breath ; 

With them, too, expired the Managers' hopes, 
Who are left to deplore their sad death ! 

Odd and various reports of the cause are about, 

But the real one was this, I opine : 
They were run to a stand-still, and, therefore, no doubt, 

That the cause was a rapid decline ! 

When Death shewed his Noh, out of Time they were beat, 

And neither could come to the scratch ; 
They hung down their heads and gave up the last heat. 

Not prepared with the Spectre to match. 

All wept at the Funeral ! the Fancy and all — 

Some new, but a great many mended : 
And Egan, while Cruikshank and Boh held the pall, 

As Chief-Mourner in person attended ! ! ! 

Their Sprees and their Ramlles no more shall amuse, 
Farewell to all nocturnal parleys ; 

morality can suffer anything from the pictures of vice and folly which 
it presents." 

The following criticism also appeared in the John Bull : — " Sad- 
ler's Wells, Astley's, and the Surrey Theatre, all produced Toms and 
Jerries; — that at Sadler'sWells is more carefally purged of impurities 
than any of them, and takes the lead in other respects, which, perhaps, 
may be owing to the care of Mr Egan, or the tact of Mr Egerton. 
The fact is, that that which appears a silly opposition in producing the 
same pieces at all the houses, will eventually turn out capitally ; for 
now, instead of being contented with seeing one Tom and Jerry, the 
town will not be satisfied till they have seen them all, and, as the last 
three months were spent in discussing the merits of the first, so the 
whole summer will be devoted to comparing notes and qualifying for 
' critic' upon the new editions of this very extraordinar j' perfoimance. 



30 LIFE I?J ANT) OUT OF LONnOX. 

The Town felt regret, as 1he bell toird the news, 
And no one rejoiced — but the Charhys ! 

A monument, too, their kind Patrons will raise, 
Inscribed on—" Here lies TOM and JEEEY, 

Who, departing the Staqe to their immortal praise, 

ONE THOUSAND Nights* made the Town merry ! ! ! " 

May their souls rest in peace, since they've chosen to flit, 

Like other great heroes departed ; 
May no mischief arise from their sudden exit, 

Nor PiEECE Egan die — Irohen-hearted ! 

In order to produce some novelty on tlie subject, on 
Monday, June 2, 1823, was performed, for the first time, at 
the Cobourg Theatre, The Death of Life in London; or, 
Tom and Jerry's Funerat-, written by T. Greenwood, 
Esq., an entirely New, Satirical, Burlesque, Operatic Parody, 
in one act, not taken from any thing, hut taking off many 
things, full of Wit, pregnant with Sensibility, abounding in 
Effects, Pathetic, Moral, Instructive, and Delightful, being 
the LAST that ever will he heard of these two popular Heroes. 

Record it not, ye historians of the LEGITIMATE 
DRAMA ! hear it not, ye lovers of the classic Stage ! and 
tell it not to the arbiters of good taste and polite literature ! 
that, after the Burletta of Life in London had been per- 
formed at every provincial theatre in the kingdom — ex- 
hibited at all the fairs, and peep-shows — after the mania had 
subsided — nearly seven years rolled over — and the threat of 
the poet at an end : — 

Alas ! how alter'd is the British Stage ! 
Splendour and novelty the town engage : 
Dkamatic Authors now their works may hury. 
Floor d by those dashing heroes, Tom and Jerry. 

* The Author's dramatic Piece of Tom and Jerry, which first ap- 
peared at Sadler's Wells, on April 8, 1822, to the last night at the 
Olympic Theatre, January 2, 1823, in less time than the short space of 
nine months, was represented ont hundred and ninety-one rtiijlits, a 
circumstance unj^recedented in the annals of the drama ; independent 
of Tom and Jerry being performed at five Theatres in the Metro- 
polis at the same time, for several months, by various adaptirs from 
the Original Work of Life in London ; besides the numerous re- 
presentations at most of the Provincial Pl;iy-houses. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDOX. 31 

Should these Corinthians live, I'll make a bet, 
Our modern bards will be in the Gazette ! 
Take for their Benefit (a serious fact) 
A piece much hacknied — the Insolvent Act : — 

tlie Proprietors of the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, per- 
mitted Corinthian Tom to strut and fret his hour on their 
stage ; Jemj HauiJiorn to patter flash to the elegant 
creatures in the dress circle ; and Dusty Bob to embrace 
Black Sat, agitate his tinkler, toss off his max, and " come 
the double shuffle,''^ for the improvement of the listeners of 
the critics in the pit. Forbid it ! we assert; but, according 
to OM Granny's doctrine, when teaching the little kids, 
" Truth cannot be shamed, although it may be blamed," — 
Covent Garden Theatre threw off the mask, put the legiti- 
mate DRAMA on the shetf for a short period, had a shy for 
the blunt, and, in the highest style of gammon, announced 
to the public, that the humours of Life in London would be 
shewn, for the first time, to a Covent Garden audience. 

Surely that respectable Actor, the " Ogleby of his hour ! " 
who introduced Tom and Jerry for his benefit, did not 
mean to assert that the audiences of Covent Garden Theatre 
were packed ; or, in other words, they were all over so much 
legitimatized that they could not condescend to "s^isit Minor 
Theatres. Instead of stating it was his intention "to shew 
a Covent Garden audience Life in London," with all due 
deference to his opinion, it would have proved far more cor- 
rect thus to have announced it in the bill : — 

THE GHOSTS 

OF 

TOM AND JERRY! 

CRUCIFIED ! 

AT THE 

SHRIXE OF FALSE DELICACY ! 

ON THE BOAEDS OF A 

LEGLTLMATE THEATRE: 

By Theophilus Gammon, Esq. 

ly THREE CANT O's! Oh!. . .Ah!!. ..Oh!!! 

[Exit i)oor worn-oHt Legitimates. 



32 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

It is, however, but justice to state, that the " Tough Old 
Commodore of the Flats " growled nicely ! nay, more, that 
*' he grinn'd horribly a ghastly smile ! " when he first heard 
that the Wings of the Classic Houses were to be polluted by 
the introduction of such loio fellows as Baron Nay em and 
Ragged Jack. It appears rather singular, to our notion of 
things, that the indefatigable and inventive " A^eteran caterer " 
in the Ballet and Pantomime department at the above 
Theatre, should also have " dropped down on his luck " in 
so great a degree, as to have given the preference to such a 
Piece, so hachiied from one end of the kingdom to the other, 
rather than " cudgel his own brains " to attract and please 
the Public with something NEW. But admitting, for the 
sake of argument, that the Performers have a right to intro- 
duce any Piece on their benefit nights, and the illegitimate 
Burletta of Tom and Jerry might- be considered a good 
draio ; yet what apology can be offered for the had taste of 
the Proprietors of the Classic Theatre, to perform Life in 
London for two nights afterwards on the stock account ? 
Why, the best apology in the world — Shakespere shall be 
their organ — and legitimate to all intents and purposes : — 

" 'Tis gold 
Which buys admittance — oft it dotli, yea, make 
Diana's rangers false to themselves." 

It is true, upon the legitimacy of the subject, some 
difference of ojDinion may have existed in the minds of the 
great Patentees of the Theatre Poyal ; but, of course, as 
their Patents grant them " an exclusive right or privilege," 
it must be admitted, " according to law," they are entitled 
not only to see clearer, but to possess a better understanding* 

^- Let us argufy the topic — it must be true — they have a Patent to 
be superior to their inferiors in competition. The eyes of the great 
Patentees possess more fire ; their ears classic to the very echo ; their 
brains, more nous ; their taste so excellent as to be pronounced an 
octave above the superlative degree ; their perception immense, vast, 
unequalled ; and their judgments correct and final, like the Wool- 
sack. Indeed, Shakespere has it to a nicety : — 
" I am Sir Oracle ! 
And when I ope my lips lot no dog bark." 



LTFR IN AXI) OUT OK I.OXDOX. 33 

upon theatrical matters, more especiall3^ when their pecuniary 
interests are concerned, than the managers of theatres of a 
minor description. 

If the position of the Poet be good, to 

Eye NATURE'S walks, shoot Folly as it flies. 
And catch the MANNERS living as they rise ! 

we shall tell the Call-hoy to bring forward DrsTY Bor,, 
with his bell, to collect lerjitimafe audiences, before whom 
the subject may be discussed with temper and talents : 
Corinthian Tom be allowed to plead in his own defence, 
as to the passport he derived from I^ATURE ; Jerry 
Haa^thorn to say a word or two in his own behalf, re- 
specting the advantages to be obtained by experience, know- 
ledge, and ART ; and an old friend, the never-failing Bob, 
chop Logic on the matter in dispute : 

'Tis wit and wrangler's Logic ; thus d'ye see, 

I'll prove at once, as plain as A B C, 

" That an eel isle's a pigeon. To deny it, 

Would be to swear black's not black ! " " Come, let's try it ! " 

" An ed pie is a pie otflsh.'" — " Agreed." 

" Fish pie may be a jack pie." — " Well, proceed." 

" A jack pie is a John pie, and 'tis done. 

For every John Pie must be a Pie John.'' (Pigeon). 

" Bravo !" Sir Peter cries, " Logic for ever ! 

That beats my grandmother, and she was clever." 

Should Bob be beaten out of the field, after the Univer- 
sity learning he has displayed on the score of /egifimac//, 
why then we must call upon the Tellers in the Theatrical 
Treasuries to " go to scale " upon the matter ; in order to 
produce the " lots of blunt " realised by the managers all 
over England by their repeated performances of the illegi- 
timate piece of Tom and Jerry. The u-in)iing-Y>ost will then 
be obtained, without any difficulty, by the above heroes. 

The Poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling. 

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth t j lieaven ; 

And, as IMAGINATION bodies forth 

The form of things unknown, the poet's pen 

Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing 

A local habitation and a name. 



34 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LOXDOX. 

But the EYE may voU, roll, and roll again ; and the 
" LOCAL HABITATION " may perhaps be obtained after 
months of deep study, by poring over the midnight lamp ; 
and just as the Author may be congratulating himself on 
the success of his genius, receiving the smiles of Fame, and 
a " trifling sweetener " from Threadneedle Street, as a re- 
ward for his exertions, he may be attacked by the Sappers 
and Miners — those pickers and stealers, who do not abso- 
lutely come under the denomination of pickpockets, yet 
thieves to all intents and purposes, and, certainly, robbers of 
the most unprincipled description — Literary Pirates. 
By which unfair means, the above nob-snatchers, not coming 
under the cognizance of the police, carry on their depreda- 
tions with the most unblushing effrontery ; irritate the poor 
Author, almost to madness, blast his prospects ; impose on 
the unwary by their imitations, and render the " cash ac- 
count" quite nugatory* 

There is another mob of Pirates, — a set of Vampires, 
living upon " the brains " of other persons, and who dare 
not think for themselves. 



*" This note is inserted here, on account of a duty we owe to our- 
selves, in Older to prevent "foul play" proving successful against us a 
second time ; and also to put our friends, all over England, on their 
guard against similar practices of imitation and deception. A Pub- 
lisher, during the popularity of the preceding volume of this work, 
who had not the pluck to put his real name, for reasons best known 
to himself, not only copied the outline of our story, but made an in- 
fringemott on our Title, and, in the most palpable manner, copied 
our hero in his plates ; and, by a paltry subterfuge, endeavoured to 
secure himself under the term "real." The above spurious production 
— in evcrj' point of view — was published at sixpence per number ; by 
which dishonourable mode of conduct he filled his own coffers at the 
expense of the fair and indefatigable exertions of the Author and 
Artist, and likewise to the great loss of the original Publishers in 
Paternoster Eow. Such conduct, so much at variance with the fair 
tradesman, ought to be exposed. Fair Play is our motto — and we 
will extort it from our opponents, if it is not to be obtained by any 
other moans. It is, however. Paternoster Eow to a Boolsta/l, 
Lackington's TjIbrary to a GhiUVs Primer, and Kingsland Eoad 
to a halfpenny ballad, that the Public are not again duped by such 
artifices. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 35 

Some neither can for Wits nor Critics pass ; 
As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass ; 
Those half-Iearn'd witlings, num'rous in our islo, 
As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile ; 
Uxfinisii'd things, one knows not what to call, 
Their generation's so equivocal: 
To tell 'em would a hundred tongues require ! 

The Saj)pers and Miners are all upon the alert, as here- 
tofore, stealing an ei/e ; honing a nose ; prigging an ear ; 
running off with a Lady ; making free with a nob ; copying 
a face ; borrowing of legs ; wheeling off a barrow-full of 
BRAINS ; and overwhelmed with a cart-load of ideas ! 

In bidding adieu to the Pirates we feel anxious to throw 
out a few hints for their Reformation. We hope these 
Pilferers will take a si/nopsis of what has been presented to 
their notice ; and, in future, " turn from their wiched ways," 
and become honest men; '^ cudgel their own brains," to 
improve their circumstances, rather than knock about the 
Heads of other persons to supply their wants ; find 
Heroes for themselves ; make their own sketches ; dig deep 
into their own mazzarcis ; ask themselves a few questions 
on the propriety of " to do to all men, as I would 
THEY should DO UNTO ME ; " givo the Paste and Scissors 
a long HoKday ; and, as a last farewell, to let every Tub 
stand upon its own bottom ! 

The cheering smile of FAME will now inspire us with 
more confidence than ever towards the completion of the 
Work before us, flattering ourselves that we have kept our 
promise with the Public in the most rigid point of view, 
namely : — we have made the grave to smile, the gay to 
feel delight, the comical laugh heartily, and the pathetic 
have occasion for a icij^ie. The modest have not had occa- 
sion to turn aside with disgrust, nor the moralist to shut 
the book offended. The Corinthians, likewise, have no 
cause to be ashamed to acknowledge " Tom " as one of their 
party ; the Universities not the slighest complaint to exjiel, 
or even rusticate, " Bob Logic ; " nor the large family of 
the Hawthorns to disown poor " Jerry," for his " Rambles 
and Sprees through the Metropolis." 



36 



I.IFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 



Thus, after tlie lapse of Seven Years, the Author has 
once more seized hold of the feather, and the Artist his 
pencil, with an earnest endeavour to follow the advice of our 
immortal bard, or rather adopt him as a model, " nothing 
to extenuate, or to set down aught in malice ! " and 

To hold as 'twere 
The Mirror up to Nature ; to shew Virtue her own feature, 
Vice her own image, and the very age 
And body of the Time, its form and pressure. 

Then thus it is : — 



i) 



CHAPTER II. 

The difficidtij of parting icith Old Pals — notJiing else hut 
the right sort of Chaps — a practical illustration of the 
sound doctrine of " Friendship loithout Interest" A sigh 
for those " dear creatures " left behind lis. Stage Coach 
reflections and adventures. New acquaintances. Sir 
John Blubber, Knf., a second Falstaff ivithout stuffing. 
An Outline of his Character. Bill Put-'em-along, 
the learned JDragsman. The Pulpit versus the Box. 
The broken sentence mended. Taking Stock — balancing 
accounts — something after the manner of the dangers of 
Towx Rambles versus Country Amusements. 
Change of scene absolutely necessary. Reluctant adieu 
to the Metropolis ; but, nevertheless, the powerful attrac- 
tions of " Home ! siccet Ho:me ! " Hawthorn Hall in 
sight, and the joy of the Old Folks on the return of Jerry 
to his native soil. The advantages of "pulling tip" in 
time — good effects of training ; and exercise the best 
2)hysic towards the 2^>'oduction of health and strength. 
Jerry once more himself — his favourite pursuits renewed 
with vigour. The Charms of the Chase: 

Our pleasure transports us, how gay flies the hour, 

Sweet health and quick spirits attend ; 
Not sweeter when ev'ning conveys to the bower. 
And we meet the loved smile of a friend. 
See the stag just before us I he starts at the cry : 
He stops — his strength fails — speak, my friends — must he die ? 

His innocent aspect, while standing at bay, 

His expression of anguish and pain. 
All plead for compassion — your looks seem to say, 
Let him bound o'er the forest again. 
Quick release him, to dart o'er the neighbouring plain ; 
Let him live^let him bound o'er the forest ag.iiu. 



38 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

Jerry a true Sportsman — t/ie p/easnre cdtached to the dog 
and the gun. The delightful Country round Hawthorn 
Hall. 

-Parting is such sweet sorrow, 



That I shall say, " Good Night," till it be morrow. 

THE great bustle and confusion incident to tlie White 
Horse Cellar, Piccadilly, so well known to persons wlio quit 
the above celebrated Hotel for most parts of the kindom,* 
had scarcely ceased to vibrate upon the ears of the discon- 
solate, nay, chop-fallen Jerry, by the departure of the 
stage-coach for its place of destination, when, being left 
to his own meditations, he became so dejected at the blank 
left in his mind by the absence of his ^Jff/s, that he almost 
angrily looked round him, and seemed to say to his fellow- 
travellers : — 

Why, what's that to you, if my eyes I'm wiping, 
A TEAR is a pleasure, d'ye see, in its way ; 

It's nonsense for TRIFLES, I own, to be piping, 
But they that an't feeling, why I pity they ! 

Though the coach was quite full of company, yet Jerry 
was so much absorbed in thought, that, for a few minutes, 
he might positively be said to have been — Alone ! Indeed, 



* It is highly necessary for persons who are quitting London at the 
above rendezvous for stage-coaches to be on the alert, but their atten- 
tion is so much occupied by the surrounding objects, that the passengers 
have scarcely time to think of themselves. To the stranger and timid 
female the bustle and noise of the scene is extremely annoying. The 
almost perpetual blowing of horns, the arrival and departure of nume- 
rous stage-coaches, the busy, impertinent, resolute Cuds, also upon the 
look-out to procure jjassongers, persuading them nearly against their 
inclinations to mount this or that ere coach with which their interests 
are connected; men with newspapers, others with umbrellas, oranges, 
pencils, walking-sticks, &c., &c., form a most extraordinary assem- 
blage, and absorb the whole attention. Indeed, the ignorant arc very 
liable to make mistakes ; and, in more instances than one, it has been 
discovered too late to rectify the error, when, manj"- miles out of town, 
Ihoy have had the mortification of learning they have gone hy a wrong 
ranch ! 



LIFE IX AND OL'T 01' LONDON. 39 

it was no common separatio)i to part with such fried friends 
as Corinthian To:n[, and the (jaij and lively Bon Logic, 
who had, upon all occasions, acted towards our hero with the 
most disinterested motives : his improvement and future 
welfare being their only object in view. The sensation 
felt by Jerry on losing his friends, may, therefore, in some 
measure, be offered as an apology for his want of gallantry 
to his female companions in the vehicle. 

A sigh frequently escaped from the Kps of our hero, in 
spite of the rattling and jolts of the coach over the stones, 
when the recollection of the elegant Corinthian Kate 
and the Charming Sue flashed across his memory : excus- 
ing this amiable weakness, in the words of the poet : — 

" Is there a heart that never loved, 
Or felt soft woman's sigh ? " 

" Lovely woman ! Never," said he, mentally, " shall I forget 
the ' gay momenta ' I passed when first introduced to their 
notice by Tom ; indeed, words could not be more accurately 
applied by my Coz. ; and I am only afraid I shall never 
experience such an intellectual treat again. By my depar- 
ture from London I shall not only be deprived of their most 
interesting company for some time to come, but I feel ex- 
tremely mortified that I had not an opportunity of saying 
to them, Farewell, accompanied by a chaste salute. I 
shall often remember the many delightful games of Romps* 
I have had with the kind-hearted Sue ! Bless her pretty 
index ! But it is, perhaps, all for the best ; I might have 
become too fond of her ; the company of Sue was too 
fascinating for me, and the result might have proved 



* In order to prevent any obscurity upon this subject, and likewise 
to avoid anything like double entendre, which punsters and jokers are 
too often apt to indulge in by tioisting words to their purpose in order 
to create a laugh, we think it necessary to state that the broken sentence 
at the conclusion of the first volume, page 37G, is here mended by 
Jerry in his allusion to the numerous games of Eomps he had had 
with the charming Sub. 



40 I.IFE I.V AXD OUT OF LOXDOX. 

dangerous to my peace of mind. Yet my best wishes 
attend upon lier weKare I 

" The want of Boh at my elhoir, to rally my spirits when I 
am getting dull, I shall soon find out ; and the experience of 
my invaluable friend Tom to act as guide when my mind 
may prove wavering as to the selection of the right path, 
will operate as a serious loss ; but, nevertheless, I am grate- 
ful for 2^'^'^f exertions, and must act for myself towards the 
future. Though my health, perhaps, has suffered a slight 
shock by my visit to London, yet it is a consolation to me 
to reflect that my ' notice to quit ' is only connected with 
the day and night scenes of the Metropolis, and that my 
return to the country is upon a repairing lease. The tene- 
ment, I flatter myself, is not yet so much damaged but it 
can be made tcind and water jyroof ior a long time to come ! " 

"WTiile Eeasox ruJ(S the ghtss, and Friendship flings 
Its CiAUDE-like tint o'er life's convivial hours, 

HeiH towards heart with generous fervour springs, 
And Fancy wreathes the social board with flowers. 



LIFE IX AND our OV hONDOX. 41 



Look uow on yon hihhers — how wildly they laugh, 

And exult o'er the poison they fearlessly quaff; 

Their mirth grows to madness, and loudly they call 

On the waiter ; — he enters — DEATH ivults on them all I 

They jest at his figure — 'tis meagre and bare, 

But soon his " pale liv'ry " the proudest shall wear. 

That LAST/a^«/ Bottle the r/i isc/ne/ shall work ; 

Their last vital breath shall be drawn with that cork. 

Its odour is fetid — it smells of the de^vd, 

'Tis a type of their fate, for their spirits have fled : 

The glass of hilarity reels in their hand. 

But there is another glass — flowing with sand ; 

Its grains are fast falling — they trickle — no more, 

Those GLASSES are drained — the CAEOUSAL is o'er I 

H>/de Park Corner and TattersaVs were passed with ex- 
treme regret by Jerry : " The latter place," he observed, 
" has proved a great source of amusement to me, in a variety 
of instances ; but I must now leave those gay fellows, and 
their thorough-bred cattle of every description, for a short 
period, to settle all matters in dispute by themselves. Dr 
Please'em will have it so ; and I really am much indebted 
to his excellent ad^acej as to the means of recovering my 
health ; and I shall now be enabled to follow his prescrij)- 
tions much more attentively than when at Corinthian 
House. The difference of conduct will be striking in every 
point of view ; ' to rise with the Lark,' instead of stagger- 
ing to bed after a lark ; Kstening to the musical cry of the 
hounds rather than be woke from one's slumbers by the 
drawling sounds of the Watchmen ; and up by peep-o'- 
day, to enjoy the sweet and bracing air of the country, 
instead of inhahng large quantities of Gas every step at 
midnight ! " 

The above sort of a reverie being at an end, the spirits 
of Jerry began to improve ; he bade adieu to the blue 
devils, and ventured to take a slight synopsis of his 
female companions in the coach, who had hitherto been 
quite neglected (or rather unnoticed by him), for upwards 



42 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

of the first ten miles. Two of the ladies, by their apparel,* 
appeared to be persons belonging to a superior class in 
Society. Young, interesting, cheerful, and possessing coun- 
tenances of the most inviting and open description ; so 
much so, that Jerry might have been pardoned, if the 
exclamation had escaped his lips : 

How happy could I be witli either I 

The other female, on the contrary, was rather advanced 
in years, — her dress solemn and precise to a pin, with a 
face severe and rigid, and her exterior altogether bore 
evident marks of austerity : therefore, one glance at the 
Old Maid was quite sufficient for the sparklers of Jerry ; 
and, to prevent any mistakes on his part, he left this " rem- 
nant of antiquity" to act according to her own discretion, 
either to join in the discourse, or to remain silent. 

Our hero soon rendered himself agreeable, by his con- 
versation, to the young females. After the state of the 
wcatherf had been ascertained and settled by the parties, 
the Parks, the Opera, Theatres, the Fashions, and almost 
every other circumstance which had tended to excite 
public attention during the season in the Metropolis, 
were rapidly discussed between Jerry and his entertaining 
companions, with considerable taste and ability. The be- 
witchino; Vestris was admitted an actress of the highest 



* This sort of criterion now-a-days must be pronouuced douhtfid, 
when dress is so much the rage throughout all ranks in society ; but, 
nevertheless, Jerry's judgment proved correct : the golden chain, the 
brilliant ear-rings, the rich silk pelisse, and the beautiful ringlets, 
all lost their attractive importance upon our hero, after the ladies 
began to discourse "eloquent music." 

t The state of the weather is almost a sine qua non with travellers 
in general, respecting the introduction of themselves to each other ; 
in fact, it might have been advantageously set forth in the new work, 
"Helps to Conveksation, hij an Old Cripple." For instance, "I 
think the weather will turn out fine. Madam," "We shall have no 
rain to-daj', Sir," " Lots of hlue slnj,'' &c., &c. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 43 

fascination in London, and unequalled for the possession 
of versatility of talent ; having sustained in one week, 
according to the statement of one of the young ladies, 
three principal characters at the Italian Opera, the French 
Play, and at Drury Lane Theatre, and Kkewise excelled in 
all of them. Mr Keen}, too. Jerky thought, was most un- 
doubtedly entitled to the appellation of Shakespere's Hero ; 
the Othello of this triumphant actor was unique : but Mac- 
reaehj, in his humble opinion, came under the denomination 
of a great melo-dramatic actor ; although it was only 
justice to state, the Virginius and William Tell of Mac- 
ready were master pieces of the histrionic art. 

The Old Maid was stubbornly silent during the whole of 
the above conversation between Jerry and the young 
ladies ; yet, by her shrugs and grimaces, she gave her 
fellow-travellers evident signs of her disapprobation and 
utter contempt for such profane subjects. Jerry was not 
to be deterred by the outward tokens of the above remnant 
of antiquity, whose severity of countenance seemed to 
infer : '* Young folks, ye know not what ye do ; the lighter 
things of this world only occupy your attention. Your time 
might be more seriously and profitably employed for your 
future welfare." Our hero soon resumed the conversation, 
but he would have felt himself a little more confident, if To:m 
had been of the party, when the Italian Opera, the last new 
Novels, and the Galleries of Paintings, were the themes of 
the discourse ; yet, nevertheless, he ventured to observe 
that Mercandotti* was the most delightful dancer he had 
ever seen. " Her very soul," said Jerry, " might almost 



* At the period above alluded to, this justly celebrated dancer had 
not been induced to quit the stage ; nor her subsequent retii'ement 
felt by the lovers of the " light fantastic toe," and admirers of first- 
rate dancing. Yet who could quarrel with Mademoiselle Mercandotti 
for the step she took towards the Temple of Hymen, which was con- 
sidered as one of the best and richest movements in her profession, 
by securing a young and golden partner for life. 



44 UVE IN AX I) OUT OF LONDON. 

be witnessed in every step, with whicli she enrajitured her 
auditors ; indeed it is totally out of my power to describe 
her excellence," the above opinion was mildly offered in 
opposition to one of the young ladies who had decidedly 
expressed herself in favour of Iladame Nohlet. " It is 
true," said she, " I have been delighted with the movements 
of Mademoiselle llercandotti, and I can only view her as a 
most powerful rival to Nolkt; but the simpKcity of the 
latter, her attractive symmetry of form, the ease and ele- 
gance of her steps, appearing almost unconscious that she 
was in the presence of spectators, have made so strong an 
impression upon my mind, that, although a female, I am 
quite in love with her. Nohlet is really a pretty creature ! " 
The gallantry of Jerry in this instance became rather at a 
standstill ; and, with considerable politeness, he gave up the 
point. 

A variety of other topics connected with the subjects of 
the day, were disposed of with taste and spirit on both 
sides, and the time went off so pleasantly between Jerry 
and the young ladies, that Twyford and Reading were 
passed through, without producing the slightest remark, 
until they arrived at Newbury, where an elegant carriage, 
with servants in livery, was in waiting to convey them to 
the seat of their father, a few miles distant from the above 
place. Our hero expressed much regret at their depar- 
ture ; and the young ladies, in return, thanked him for his 
entertaining company, and politeness in attending them to 
their carriage. Jerry again seated himself in the stage- 
coach ; but the attraction was gone, and mum became the 
order of the day between him and the Old Maid, imtil the 
vehicle arrived at Speenhamland. Here the coach stojiped 
at the Hotel to take up a passenger, known by the name 
and title of Sir John Bluivher, Knt. On Jerry's 
witnessing the approach of the Knight towards the coach, 
the bulky figure of the latter caused him to smile, as he 
appeared to Jerry capable, as to exterior, of performing 
the part of i^(^//.s/'r(/^' without the aid of staffing. The door 
of the coach was immediately opened for his reception, 



LIFE IX AND OUT OF LONDON. 4-5 

but, after immense puffing and bhtciiig, the perspiration 
rolling down his cheeks like steam, and the struggles of 
the fat Knight to obtain an entrance, with the assistance 
and pushing of the coachman, amid the loud laughs of the 
post-boys and Johnny Raws who surrounded the door of 
the inn, at the ludicrous efforts of Sir John to effect an 
impossibility, the attempt was given up as hopeless. In 
this dilemma, the fat Knight consented to take an outside 
place on the roof of the stage, exclaiming, " A plague take 
3'our narrow doors, say I ! It would be difficult for a ram- 
rod to get inside. The proprietors ought to be indicted 
for having such small coaches. Do you call such treat- 
ment accommodating the public ? Such little vehicles are 
only fit for toys to amuse children. Here have I been 
waiting at the Hotel for several hours to obtain a place, 
and tried all the coaches as they passed the door, and am 
now compelled to mix with the common sort of folks 
outside. An alteration must be made in the Act of Parlia- 
ment for regulating stage-coaches, to have the doors made 
of decent width, and not such pojy-gan holes as they now 
are, to admit a person of a moderate size. The next 
Session of Parliament I shall, most certainly, petition the 
House upon the great importance of the subject." 

The Old Maid, on hearing the determination of the fat 
Knight, suddenly broke silence, and, popping her head out 
of the coach window, said, " dear, Mr Coachman, I really 
think I must get out ; it will not be safe for me to continue 
my journey inside, if that ' uncommonly big gentleman ' 
rides upon the roof ; I am sure it will fall in, and I shall be 
smothered to death." Bill Put-'em-along, the gentle- 
manly Coachman, as he was characterized on the road, 
touched his hat, and with a suppressed grin upon his face, 
replied, " You may depend upon it, 3Iiss Never-asked, there 
is not the slightest danger in the world. My coach is built 
upon new principles ! It is one of the Patent Safety 
Coaches. The roof is strong enough to carry St. Paul's 
Cathedral, from one end of the globe to the other, if you 
could but get that venerable pile upon the coach, as 



46 MFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

luggage," At the genteel gammon thus displayed by 
the dragsman, Jerr^ could scarcely refrain from indulging 
himself in a loud fit of laughter ; and the fat knight was 
likewise so much pleased, notwithstanding his disappoint- 
ment, that he chuckled again at the well-told story of Bill 
Put-'em-along, and cried out, " Coachy, you are quite an 
orator. It is all true, every word of it ; and I am sure you 
are too much of a gentleman to deceive any young lady ! " 
This tiny bit of flattery from the " uncommonly big gentle- 
man," tended to allay the fears of the Old Maid, who, in 
rather a more satisfied tone of expression, observed, " If 
you are sure it is a Patent Safety Coach, Mr Coachman, I 
will proceed with my journey ; as I have been informed it 
is impossible that any accident can occur to a coach secured 
by a Patent of Safety ! " " Quite right, Miss," replied 
Put-'em-along, almost laughing in her faee at the cre- 
dulity she thus displayed ; " you may compose your feel- 
ings with the utmost security," The ladder was now placed 
against the coach, and Sir John mounted the roof with 
less difiiculty than might have been anticipated from his 
ponderosity ; but in firmly seating himseK upon the roof 
he made the coach shake again, as if almost attacked by 
an earthquake, to the great terror of the Old Maid, who, 
now agitated beyond descrijDtion, uttered a violent scream, 
and addressed herself to Jerry : "0 dear. Sir ! Young 
gentleman ! Pray let me ask, do you not perceive a crack 
upon the top of the coach ? I am sure he has split the roof ! 
What a thing it would be, if he should come through the 
roof ! The 'uncommonly big gentleman,' I am afraid, will 
soon be a-to}) of us ! " 

Before Jerry could make a reply, the fat Knight, on 
hearing the shriek of the Old Maid, put down his jolly face 
towards the coach window, and assured her " there was no 
danger to be apprehended from him. He was not so large 
a man as she might think ; there were much bigger men 
than he often went as passengers by the Safety Coach. He 
was certain he did not weigh above twenty-four stone at 
the most ! " Jerry (perhaps unpardonably at such a mo- 



LIFE IN AXl) OUT OF LONDON. 47 

ment, but liis love of a " bit of fun " with some persons may 
operate as an excuse) now begged the Old Maid to be 
pacified ; and endeavouring, at the same time, to make up 
his face as sanctified as a methodist preacher at a love feast, 
thus addressed her : " The only doubt that I have at present 
upon the subject is, whether we may rely upon the declara- 
tion that the vehicle we are now in is really a Safety Coach. 
There is, I am sorr}^ to say, no dependence to be placed 
upon these coachmen. I perceive no cvack at present, Miss ; 
but I would not answer how soon such an opening may 
make its appearance inside of the coach, considering such 
an * uncommonly big gentleman ' is over our heads. I 
think it might be as well once more to ask the coachman 
respecting the truth of his assertion." Bill Put-'em-along 
again answered the interrogative with " All's right ! " "I 
am now perfectly satisfied, Miss," replied our hero, " and 
there is no doubt of your continuing your journey with the 
utmost safety." Jerry was compelled to put his head out 
of the coach window to prevent being detected by the Old 
Maid at the trumped-up story he had made, having no 
longer any command over the lineaments of his face. All 
now was quiet for a few miles, and the coach made its way 
over the ground with great celerity, when the Old Maid 
again relapsed into her former taciturnity. Jerry, although 
far, very far, removed from the character of a misogynist, 
was now determined to leave Miss Never-asked to her own 
private reflections, and join the pleasant company of the 
gay dvagsman, and the fat jovial Knight outside ; he there- 
fore ordered Bill-Put-'em-along to pull up, and, with a 
respectful bow, took his leave of the Old Maid. " I hope, 
Sir," said she, "you apprehend no danger by leaving the 
inside of the coach ? If you do, pray be kind to me — nay, 
more, be candid, as to my doubtful situation, as I still have 
my fears about that ' uncommonly big gentleman.' " " De- 
pend upon it, Miss," replied Jerry, *'I take my leave of 
you under no other consideration than to enjoy the benefit 
of the air, which the state of my health positively requires." 
This answer proved quite satisfactory to the feelings of the 
Old Maid. 



48 LIFE IX AND OUT OF LONDON'. 

Our hero now mounted tlie box, along with Bill Put-'e.m- 
ALONG, who was everything but a dummi/ ; in fact, originally, 
he had been intended by his relatives to sustain the sacred 
functions of a clergyman ; and accordingly he had received 
his education at one of the colleges at Cambridge. TThat 
progress he had made in his studies during his novitiate to 
obtain the character of a " learned Pundit," had never been 
a subject of argument amongst his fellow collegians; but for 
a trotting match, as a good shot, and as an amateur whip, 
they would back him to " push along, keep moving, and to 
get over the ground," against most of the stage coachmen of 
the day. His papa and mamma had long been called to that 
" bourne from whence no traveller returns ; " and he was 
left wholly to the guardianship of a rich old uncle. A 
" good living " was also in store for him, Avhen he arrived at 
a proper period of his life to conduct it with propriety and 
rectitude. The least thing Bill partook of at College was 
learning ; it being -the most tronhhsome. He could much 
sooner dispose of a bottle or two of Champagne, than descant 
upon the Elements of Eaclid ; mount his tit with greater 
celerity than quote a passage from Tirgil ; and make use of 
the gloves with more tact than expatiate on the beauties of 
Paley. ]3ill never expected preferment in the Church — to 
become a Dean never entered his thoughts — to be made a 
Bishop, quite out of the question ; and as to filling the high 
situation of an Archbishop of Canterburj^, it Avas visio)iari/ in 
the extreme. Therefore, severity of study did not belong to 
his booh — he turned over the leaves of the Racing Calendar 
with pleasure and profit ; and noted down the ODDS at 
Tattersal's several times with an interesting account : and in 
the true spirit of the thing. Bill often used to give it as a 
matter of taste amongst his brethren of the gown, when 
enjoying the " gaily circling glass," during the hours of 
relaxation at College. " For my money," said he, " I'll have 
Doncaster for Book-?'«(7 against Cambridge; for NoB-?ro;'Z-, 
I'll bet any odds, Epsom in preference to Oxford ; and for 
Readers, Newisiarket, 50 to 1, against both the schools of 
St Paul's and Westminster, Ten Ponies on York, for the 
production of scJiolars, as to knou-Jedge and calculation, against 



LIFE IN AND OrX 01-' hONDOX. 49 

all the deep studies acquired at Eton ; and Ascor, dclio;htful, 
splendid Ascot, for pedigree, bottom, bone, and blood, ' all to 
nothing ' against the ' traininrj ' at the Chartcr-Jtoii-^c ! " 

Put-'em-along, it was soon discovered, preferred the range 
of the world, to the confined state of the closcf, and he Avas 
determined to risk his fortune upon the Grand Theatre of 
Life, rather than stick to the " old, musty, fusty rules of 
College." He soon ran through his patrimony ; the advice 
of his uncle had not been attended to, and Bill felt quite 
satisfied that the " good living " was completely out of sight ; 
something must be done ; a gentleman without means he 
found to be the most afflicting state in society, and of "no 
use " at all in the Metropolis ; he therefore turned his atten- 
tion towards " the road ! " Yet not after the mode of a 
celebrated dramatic hero, to turn the " lead into gold ; " 
neither to trifle away his time with the "pretty Follies'' and 
" fond Lucies ; " but without hesitation he mounted the box, 
stuck to his leaders, handled the ribbons, and picked up, after 
all, a '^ good living,^' without quoting a single text from 
Scripture. Such was the outline of Bill Put-'e]m-along. 
He was patronised by the Sivclh ; his fellow-collegians also 
stuck to him like glue ; and his civility and attention to his 
passengers rendered him a host within himself. His appear- 
ance was likewise prepossessing ; his manners mild and 
interesting ; and he was always dressed like a gentleman. In 
fact, the passengers were afraid to offer him the usual tij) at 
the journey's end, until he faintly observed, " the Coach- 
man ! " His drag was also in unison with the rest of his 
character, by possessing much more the sweU\odk of a gentle- 
man's Four-in-hand, instead of a regular vehicle for public 
hire ! That Bill should prove himself a most interesting 
feature on the box, hj his observations, and his knowledge of 
the various classes of society that he was comj)elled, from his 
daily occupation, to mix with, will not be doubted for an 
instant ; he was also a most cheerful and lively companion in 
every point of view, and perfectly capable of answering any 
questions put to him by the passengers, respecting the seats 
along the road, and the characters of the various nobility and 

e 



50 I.IFl'. IX AND OIT OF LONDON. 

gentry who inhabit them. Alongside of the road, toe. Bill 
had his friends amongst the landlords of the various inns, ^| 

who said of Coach ij, '^ that there was nothing of the screw j| 

about him, and what he axed for, he tipped for, like a Gent, 
which was more than many dragsmen did as how they could 
mention, although it was no matter howsomdever, here or 
there." Put 'em-along was likewise a bit of a favourite 
with the comely hostesses, the dashing barmaids, and prime 
smart chambermaids, who always gave it as their opinion, 
when Bill's character was inquired into as a Coachman, 
" that he was such a nice man, and so attentive to the females, 
that it really was a pleasure to go a journey with a person 
like Mr Put-'em-along." 

Jerry had scarcely seated himself alongside of the Coach- 
man, when the fat Knight said, " Sir, I am very glad you 
have joined us : you will find Coach y here as good as an 
almanack, intelligent upon most subjects, and witty upon all 
of them. I have heen joking with him about the uncertainty 
of human affairs, the change of occupation from grave \.o gay ; 
the lingo equally at variance with the two situations in life ; 
Tillotson giving way to Goldfinch, in order to comply with 
the phraseology of the road ; and the dress necessary to render 
the character complete. I am glad to see that Mr. Put-'em- 
along has got the ' whip-hand ' of his opponents ; and though 
not exactly ' holding forth^ for the improvement of his flock, 
yet, nevertheless, he is ' holding them up,' and still so much 
confidence is placed in his exertions to make ' all right,' that 
a great variety of souls and bodies are continually under his 
immediate care, in order that they may be kept in the right 
road, and arrive safe at the end of the journey." Sir John 
then, by way of illustration, sang, or rather hummed, the 
following verse in an imdcr tone : — 

" One negro say one ting, you take no offence, 

Black and luhite be one colour a hundred year hence ; 
And when Massa Death kick him into a grave, 
lie no spare negro, buckra, nor massa, nor slave ; 
Then dance, and then sing, and a banger thrum, thrum, 
li(ifvvUih to tuik what TO-MOEKOW may come ; 



LIFE IX AXl) OT'T OF I.ONnOX. 51 

Lily laugh and bo fat, do best tiug you can do. 
Time enougb to be sad when j'ou kickara hoo ! " 

" Such conduct, Sir, on the part of our Coachman, deserves 
most undoubtedly a ' good living ; ' and I not only hope that 
he gets lots of mint-sauce* but that his meals will be always 
sweetened with that restorative article, during the remainder 
of his days." 

Jerry was quite pleased with the change he had made, 
by quitting silence personified by the Old Maid inside, for 
the excellent company of the "uncommonly big gentleman" 
outside, whose notions of society were so much in unison 
with his own ideas of the world, that " the right end of life 
is to lire and he jolly J' By this time the coach had arrived 
at Cherril, distinguished for the large white horse cut out of 
the turf, upon a hill of chalky substance, viewed as a dis- 



-■'■ Mixt-Sauce. One of the numerous cant terms for money. It 
was a favourite word with Sir John, when in the company of persons 
whei'e he thought it was applicable : he also claimed to be the author 
of the above jj/irose. Although " it is oxlyoptioxal," so inimitably 
told by LiSTON, in the character of Lulin Lorj, to the Guard, yet the 
Coachman to a drag that loads anything like well, is far from a losing 
game. However, the anxiety naturally attendant ujjon driving a four- 
horse stage ; keeping strange horses at times well together, and to do 
their work ; the duty to be performed, whether in hot or cold weather, 
wet or dry ; the safety of the passengers alwaj's in view, either up or 
down the hills ; the absolute necessity of keeping time ; the different 
tempers to please, inside and out of the coach ; civility always re- 
quii'ed ; and satisfaction to be given to the various Proprietors. When 
all the above circumstances are taken into consideration, the liberal 
mind must be clearly satisfied, that " tlie labourer is ivorthy of his 
hire!'''' The stage coachmen, within the last twenty-five years, 
throughout England, are an improved race of men altogether ; the 
WASTE-Z)i<<i sort of Chap is eutirelj^ removed from the box ; drinking 
at every Inn quite exploded ; and the drivers in general so well togged, 
their linen white as snow, and viewed not only as one of the best 
dressed, but frequently the best lehaved man upon the coach. Full of 
anecdote ; anxious to please all parties ; cheerful and merry ; fre- 
quently humming some well-known air, by which means a journey of 
fifty or sixty miles now-a-days is disposed of so quickly, as to appear 
more like a matter of pleasure, than the dull heavy routine connected 
with business and fatigue. 

e2 



52 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

tinguished land- mark, and likewise a great object of attrac- 
tion to the traveller. Sir John, in a sort of half- whisper to 
ovir hero, illustrated by a cheerful smile, and pointing 
towards the coach-wdndow, said, "I'll have another touch 
at the Old llaid ! I know all about her ; Coachy has made 
me fli/ ! " And, before Jerry had time to dissent, the fat 
Knight rose from his place, and then hastily sitting himself 
down again, set the vehicle in rapid motion like a swimming 
top. In spite of his wishes to the contrary, Jerry was 
convulsed with laughter ; and Put-'em- along could scarcely 
keep a steady phiz, when he saw Mm Never-aslied attempt 
to thrust herself out of the coacb window, declaring her life 
was in danger. Out she would get, and take a post-chaise 
for the remainder of her journey to Bath, though within 
twenty miles of that city — " I am sure the roof is cracked ! " 
Jerry once more assured her, "that she was frightened 
without any real cause of danger ; the ' uncommonly big- 
gentleman ' had merely stood up to rest himself, and by 
flopping himself down upon the roof, as it were, had, quite 
unintentionallj^, occasioned the wriggling motion of the 
coach, by which she had become unpleasantly situated ; but 
Mm Never-asl;ed might rely upon his word and honour, as 
to her most perfect safety during the remainder of her 
journey to Bath. Put-'em- along, also, in the most persua- 
sive manner, endeavoured to allay the Old Maid's fears, 
when she rather reluctantly permitted the stage to proceed 
towards its destination, exclaiming, " I will never go "with 
such a * big gentleman ' any more, and I would give the 
world to be at home ! " 

Peace and quietness were once more restored to the pas- 
sengers under Put-em-along's care, when he observed to 
Jerry, in an under-toned voice, " I am really sorry for the 
fright and agitation disj)layed by Miss JVeirr-asked. Although 
under the designation of an Old Maid, — a situation in life 
too much calculated to produce ridicule and satire, — she is, 
nevertheless, a most amiable, cliaritablc, and worthy creature. 
3fiss Ncvcr-nskcd is extremely rich ; also connected with a 
higli and distinguished family in the country ; and con- 



MFE IN AND OUT OF I.ONLO.N. 53 

sj)icuous for her cliaritablo couduct ; although, it might be 
said of her, quite secluded from the fashionable world, yet 
occupyiug oue of the most splendid mansions in the Royal 
Crescent at Bath. It is true, she has her peculiarities : 
attended upon by an old worn-out lacquey, a demure house- 
keeper, and a puritanical waiting-maid ; yet her house is 
propriety itself, and every movement within it possesses the 
regularity of clock-work. She is surrounded by cats of all 
descriptions, lajD-dogs, squirrels, and birds out of number. 
Her heart is good; her manners, although singular, are 
lady- like ; she is said to be a woman of superior taste ; and 
extremely liberal to all those persons who pay her attention, 
or render her any service ; and I always feel regret when she 
is put out of her way." " I am rather surprised," replied Sik 
JoHX, " that she has never changed her state,* after the fine 
character you have given her ; besides the attraction of a 
splendid fortune." "I am not prepared," replied Put-'em- 
ALOXG, "to answer your question. Sir John." 

Our travellers had now arrived at Pickwick, contiguous to 
Corsham House, the celebrated seat of Paul Cobb Methuen, 
Esq., whose superb collection of paintings are the theme and 
admiration of every visitor : and the journey, which had 
commenced in dulness to Jerry, had, from the pleasant turn 
it had taken, become to him one of the most interesting 
description. "Are you acquainted at all with those two 
yoimg ladies we put down at Newbury ? " said Jerry to the 



*' Perhaps Miss Never-asked niiglit have been similarly situated to 
a Female well known in the upper circles of society : a ricli lady, nay 
more, a very desirable person, considerable talents, prepossessing 
manners, good-tempered, and not the slightest aversion to have se- 
lected for life any of the sons of Adam. But it should seem, in spito 
of all the above charms to recommend her to the notice of mankind, 
and continually mixing with good society, yet she was doomed to die 
an — Old Maid I On her death-bed, when she gave orders for the 
distribution of her property, she was asked the reason, by a most in- 
timate friend, why she had never entered the holy state of matrimony ? 
She answered in the most candid manner, accompanied by a deep 
heartfelt sigh, that no gentleman had ever " popped the .question to her 
on the subject." 



54 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

coacliTnaii. " Perfectly well," answered Put-'em-along ; 
" they are the daughters of the Honourable Mr. Sno%^T)ROP, 
the pride of their father, the ornaments of their circle of 
society, and the adoration of the inhabitants of the Tillage 
in which Snowdrop House is situated." '* I was soon con- 
rinced," replied Jerry, "they were women of no common 
class. I was delighted with their affability and beauty of 
person ; but more with their unassuming talents, I hope 
I shall again have the pleasure of traYclling with the Miss 
Snowdrops." " I never heard of any other character given 
of them," said Coachy ; *' when they quit the country, 
for the winter season in London, they positively leave a 
blank in the neighbourhood of Snowdrop House, such a 
ready attention they pay to the wants of the poor cot- 
tagers." ^ 

The small but clean town of Bath Easton was soon entered 
by our travellers, and in a very short time afterwards, 
Jerry and Sjr,,John Blubber arrived safe at the York 
Hotel. Upon quitting the stage for the ground, the fat 
Knight, who appeared cvampcd almost to numbness, observed, 
" for this deliverance, much thanks ! " and Jerry, like 
lightning, opened the coach door, handed out the Old Maid, 
and with the most perfect gallantry, offered his services. 
During the period the luggage was being regulated, the 
''uncommonly big gentleman," with a shake of the hand, 
observed to our hero, " I cannot part with you, Sir, without 
first obtaining your promise that you will have the kindness 
to honour me frequently with your visits during my stay in 
Bath. I have been much pleased with the frankness of 
your company during a most pleasant, interesting journey ; 
and permit me to sa}^, that I cannot receive any refusal to 
my request, as I desire to cultivate a more intimate acquaint- 
ance with a person so much after my own heart." The 
sincerity with which the above invitation was given to our 
hero, was quite congenial to his feelings ; and Jerry, with 
equal sincerity of manner, thus reialicd; " Sir John, I feel 
flattered by your kind opinion of me, and I shall accept of 
your request only on one condition. I have been in London 



LIFE IN AM) OUT OF I,OM);>N. 55 

for the last few months — I am rather out of sorts ; but, in 
the course of a few days, I hope to be all right again. I am 
on ray return, to see my old dad and mam ; no better crea- 
tures in the world ; excuse me, Sir, if I seem prejudiced a 
little bit in favour of my father and mother, but I am con- 
fident you will think so with me, when you know them. 
Come, then. Sir John, and see them at Hawthorn IlaU, 
where you cannot call too often for us ; and, if I do not 
produce j'ou good sport ; lend you a capital hunter ; with 
dogs of the first quality ; a jjrime gun ; a sincere welcome ; 
a substantial repast ; and a resting-place as long as you like 
for your jolly frame, when you feel tired, say there is no 
honour or reliance to be placed in Jerry Hawthorn ! But 
remember. Sir Joiix, all the old maids on my manor are 
game not to be disturbed ! " " Agreed, my son, for hence- 
forward I shall always call you so ; and, upon my veracity, 
sooner than not become acquainted with an honest fellow, 
like Jerry Haa^thorx, to render my travels through life 
pleasant I would have parted with a large vase full of mint- 
sauce ! But I positively will not part with you, my son, 
imtil we have cracked a bottle of champagne, and also 
taken some refreshment." Jerry and Sir Johx immediately 
ordered dinner ; and a post-chaise was likewise kept in readi- 
ness, on the termination of the repast, to convey Jerry to 
Hawthorn Hall, 

Sir John Blubber was a retired, wealthy citizen, who had 
fvdfilled the duties of a Common-council-man, and who had 
also served the important ofilce of Sheriif of the city of 
London. Sir John had refused an Alderman's gown ; and, 
in all probability, if he had not retired from mercantile 
transactions, might have become the Lord Ma^'or of one of 
the greatest cities in the world. Of the advantages of edi- 
CATiON he could not boast ; but, nevertheless, he considered 
himself a good calculator, although he was " self-taught." 
The only circumstance Sir John was known to flatter him- 
self about was — being the origin of all his wealth. He was 
perfectly indifferent of obtaining the title of "a gentleman," 
as a passport to high-bred quality folks ; being well assured 



56 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

that the character of a mau of fortune could not be withheld 
from him. He, therefore, left all sjjeculations to those persons 
who were desirous to add to their gains, and quitted the 
anxiety of the Stock Exchange for a life of ease ; being 
determined to spend the remainder of his days in the enjoy- 
ment of those advantages which health and a long purse can 
procure. Sir John had realised quite money enough for 
himself. It was true, according to the old adage, that he 
had neither " chick nor child " to provide for, in regard to 
rehttionshij) ; and Sir John often joined in the laugh against 
himself, that he was not only a thricing man, but there was 
enough upon his frame to make two jolly fellows, although 
he had always ranked as a single man ! 

According to the Knight's own words, he had risen in the 
world from nothing : he was a poor orphan ; a workhouse 
boy ; in truth, a child without a friend. His mother died 
in giving birth to him ; and the utmost information he could 
ever learn respecting his father was, that he had been shot 
in an engagement on board of a man-of-war, and his name 
was Jack Blubber. The early days of Sir John had been 
marked by wretchedness and distress ; in fact, 

" He had been steeped in poverty to tlie very lips ! " 

In relating his own story of the rapid progress he had 
made in life, he did not forget to mention the time when he 
was compelled to behold his naked toes oftener in the streets 
than was agreeable to his feelings ; and frequently his cl botes 
would show themselves to his acquaintances, in opposition to 
all his efforts to conceal the scanty state of his wardrobe. In 
order to show its rising quality, his //air, too, in spite of all 
his combing it down, did, for a longer period than was con- 
genial to the taste of Sir John, peep through the broken 
crown of his //at. But, by industry and care, he was enabled 
to conceal his toes within good shoes and stockings ; a 
new coat also prevented his naked elbows any more annoy- 
ing the eyes of his acquaintances ; and, ultimately, a descent 
hat covered his head. Step by step he made his way into 
society ; from the little errand boy, he became the respect- 



]-lFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 57 

able porter to carry out light weights, aud carefully to look 
after most extensive and valuable premises entrusted to bis 
charge. 

In process of time, by keen observation, regularity of con- 
duct, and attention to his department, such are the vicissi- 
tudes of fortune in the great Metropolis of England, he 
became the great proprietor of that very dwelling where he 
had commenced his career by cleaning knives and brushing 
shoes, the holding of horses, and everything connected with 
the duties of a menial servant. Success attended all his 
exertions, something after the manner of Midas ; and every- 
thing Sir John touched turned almost into gold. In every 
respect, circumstances had changed for the better in the 
great revolution of his affairs ; but his heart, which was 
good from his cradle* still firmly remained in the right place; 
and the turn of 'fortune's sportive wheel' had not altered 
his feelings a jot. Yes, they had ! — No ! not chancjed them, 
but increased their excellence. At one period of his life, his 
licart almost bled at the afflicting cases which presented 
themselves to his notice, as it was then totally out of his 
power to relieve them : but the case was now happily altered 
with Sir John ; the opportunity had arrived when he could 
gratify his wishes to the utmost extent, without reserve or 
regret : he could cry where the tear not only enriched the 
appeal of sorrow, but clearly illustrated the unfortunate's 
tale. His purse was never closed against the real object of 
imavoidable misfortune and distress ; indeed, it was the 
opinion of the fat Knight, that it was much better to be 
duped at times, than to let a deserving man or woman, in 
need of charity, be " sent empty away," as a token of revenge 
on the plausible wretch and sanctified hypocrite. 



* Perhaps this is a misnomer. From the wretchedly abject state 
of his mother, it is more than likely that Sir John did not enjoy the 
luxury of a Cradle during his babyhood. The fat Knight, however 
serious the matter might have proved to his feelings in the days of his 
j)Overiy, has often joked about it in his prosperity, by saying "his 
mother was upon io«nZ-wages when he was ushered into the world, 
which accounted for his not having a ' rvdc ' too much ! "' 



58 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

To simi up the character of Sir John Blubber : lie was a 
most facetious, jolly, good-natured soul ; one of that class 
of persons deemed indeiDcndent ; and his property enabled 
him to '•' care for nobody," if family pride was the promi- 
nent failing ; yet he was most anxious to respect the feel- 
ings of every individual, and to treat no person with 
contemf)t, more especially those characters whose circum- 
stances in life reduced them to the appellation of being called 
— Poor. 

To use his own words, he thought himself quite big 
enough, rich enough, and happy enough ; but if he could 
make a choice, he should prefer being a little thinner, to 
enable him to get out of danger, when speed was the object 
in view ; but, nevertheless. Sir John sensiblj' contented him- 
self, that it was impossible to have everything one's own 
way. He was generally rambling about the countr}' ; and 
some ecccntricitY was attached to his character. The mind 
of Sir John was soon made up ; and he would start off, at 
the instant it took his fancy, for Brighton, Doncaster, New- 
market, or any other part of the kingdom, without a second 
thought on the subject : and previous to his becoming so 
corpulent, he was continually riding from one place of note 
to another. To keep the mind on the stretc//, as he termed 
it, was one of the greatest steps towards happiness ; more 
especially when there was no lack of niint-saiice to make 
the person comfortable. "A clean shirt and a guinea were 
no bad companions," Sir John said, " to meet his eyes every 
morning on his table when breakfast was served up : " 
and there was a certain something so delightful attached 
to Independence, that he often wished he had been 
gifted with the powers of oratory to describe its beauties. 
When Sir John became tired of any place, and wished 
to return to town, he Avould often facetiously call out, 
"To the Toicerf" — his residence (but Snuggcri/ he had it 
called) being near the Min'J', and not one hundred miles 
distant from the above ancient safeguard to the City of 
London. " Capital landmarks for stray Cockneys," urged 
the "uncommonly big gentlenum," "and a prime Same- 



LIFE IN AND OUT Ol- LONDON. 0*J 

box,* to render the view not only interesting, but attractive 
to every person." 

The dinner was at an end ; the friendly bottle drained of 
its animating contents ; the post-chaise announced b}^ the 
waiter to be in readiness at the door ; when our hero and 
Sir John bade farewell, with repeated promises of visitino- 
each other. The spirits of Jerry were rather exhilarated 
by an extra glass of wine, added to the pleasing idea that he 
should soon be under his native roof, and in the company 
of his father and affectionate mother, when he observed, 
fuU of glee, " Boy, you know the road well ? " " To an inch, 
your honour," was the reply : "I have lived in Bath these 
last fft //-/ire years." "Then don't /lop," said Jerry, "but 
go along like winking : I am in haste to arrive at Hawthorn 
Hall before Sir Oliver goes to bed." The boy took the 
hint ; the tits answered the whip ; and the Old Bridge at 
Bath was crossed without delay. ^' Sir Oliver — Sir Oliver," 
said the boy to himself, after puzzling his brains for some 
time, " I don't know any such person about this part of the 
coimtry."t 

The pleasures of anticipation quite enlivened the feelings of 
our hero at every step he advanced upon the road towards his 
native village ; and, although he had quitted London only a 
few hours, he flattered himself his health had improved. " In 
a short period," said he, " I shall embrace one of the most 
affectionate beings on earth, my dear mother ; and, at the 
same time, feel the animated grasp of the hand of one of the 
most friendly men in the universe — my most respected father." 
Indeed, Jerry was so much impressed with the scene he was 
about to realise, that he gave way to his feelings, on recol- 
lecting the following popular air : — 



* The Mint. According to Sir John, "the box full of good 
things ; and nothing like it to ' box the compass ' with through life." 

I In order to relieve the mind of the post-boy, should he peruse 
this work, " Sir Oliver " is a cant phrase for the Moon 



60 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

'Mid pleasures and palaces, thougli we may roam, 

Still ever so humble, there's no place l/'h home ; 

A charm from the skies seems to hallow it there, 

Which, go through the world, you will not meet elsewhere. 

Home I Home I Sweet Home ! 

There is no place like home. 

An exile from home, pleasure dazzles in vain, 
Ah 1 give me my LOWLY THATCHED Cottage again ; 
The birds singing sweetly, that came to my call, 
Give me them, and that peace of mind, dearer than all 1 
Home ! Home ! &c. 

It was a delightful moon-liglit evening, and ever}^ object 
he passed along the road seemed to revive in his recollection 
the jjleasures of his boyhood. The last mile was nearly 
accomplished, and Hawthorn Hall in view : and as he drew 
nearer to the much loved spot, it is impossible to describe 
the pleasing sensations on hearing his favourite greyhound 
Flora, and the fine old house-dog, Blucher, bark as it were a 
sort of welcome home : — 

'Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark 

Bay deep-mouth'd welcome as we draw near home ; 

'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark 
Our coming, and look brighter when we come ; 

'Tis sweet to be awaken'd by the lark. 

Or luU'd by falling waters ; sweet the hum 

Of bees, the voice of girls, the song of birds, 

The lisp of children and their earliest words. 

The post-chaise at length drew up to the door, and on its 
being announced that Master Jerry had arrived, Hawthorn 
Hall was quite in an uproar with joy. The Old Man 
grasped the hand of his son with a feeling not to be described, 
and turned aside to check the falling drops which were fast 
rolling down his veteran cheeks : his mother embraced her 
darling boy with an ardour and joy that none but mothers 
know, and enriched the parental gift in bedewing his face 
with the tears of a virtuous woman. The heart of Jerry, 
always a melting one, was not a jot behind either of his 
parents in feeling, and he took out his handkerchief to 
conceal his emotion. The old domestics rallied round him 
with cheerful smiles ; in fact, from the highest to the lowest 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 61 

person in the establishment, he manfully exi^rcssed his 
gratitude for their expressions of kindness towards him on 
his return to Ha^\thorn Hall ; and old Blucher and Flora 
were absolutely rivals, in hanging about him and caressing 
his knees. 

The short time previous to rest was occupied in the most 
pleasing manner by all parties ; and Jerry, after partaking 
of some slight refreshment, found himself once more in bed, 
under the roof of his ancestors, the venerable but happy 
dwelling — Hawthorn Hall. Being somewhat fatigued, 
our hero did not rise mth the lark, as he was wont to do 
before he had visited the metropolis ; and was therefore con- 
tent to lie in bed longer than heretofore, much against his 
inclination, when the " early horn " invited him to join in 
the Sports of the Field. His health, however, began to mend 
apace ; and so anxious was he to join his old cronies in the 
neighbourhood, that he could scarcely allow himself time to 
obtain strength to make up for his truant disposition amongst 
his brother sportsmen. 

It was soon buzzed throughout the village that Master 
Jerry had returned to Hawthorn Hall ; with the additional 
information, that he had been also leading such a rackety 
sort of Life in London, as to compel him to resort to the 
country for the improvement of his health. These reports 
coming to the ears of our hero, he did not like to bIww him- 
self out of doors for a few days ; he felt a sort of shame that 
his appearance was so much altered ; and, in order to escape 
the jeer8 likely to be levelled at him by his former com- 
panions, " in being only the skeleton of the former athletic 
Jerry," and such-like expressions, he preferred, for a short 
time, taking exercise in the gardens and fields contiguous to 
his father's demesne, rather than expose himself to the harm- 
less jokes of his friends. 

The delightful prospects by which Hawthorn Hall was 
surrounded, and the purity of the air, had the happiest eifect ; 
and the sound maxims of — 



62 LIFE IN AND Ol'T OF LONDON. 

Early to bed and early to rise, 

Make a man healthy, wealthy, and wise, 

were adopted by Jerry, who, like a seusible man, was 
anxious to become hifuse/f again, and once more be enabled 
to enjoy the pleasures of society : he also paid the most 
punctual attention to the advice of Dr. Please 'em : and, 
from the anxious care displayed, morning, noon, and night, 
by his mother, to improve the health of her darling boy, 
Jerry Hawthorn was, in a very short time, restored to a 
perfect state of convalescence. Such are the good results of 
training ! 



CHAPTER III. 

The effects of aU-poxce)'fuJ Love in ilie scale of happiuesa : 
" SNEAKING KINDNESS " to ifit ; Jerry reducccl to a 
dummy, and Nature triiimp/iant. The charms of Virtue : 
Miss Mary Rosebud, an outline rather than a portrait : 
the hand of Sir Thomas Lawrence required to do 
justice to the subject. Lots of visitors. Arrival of Sir 
John Blubber at Hawthorn Hall. The letter 
announcing the intentions of Corinthian Tom and 
Logic to pay Jerry a visit at the seat of his Father. 
Incidents on the road — the hotel in an uproar — Travel- 
lers see strange things. Unexpected visitor to Logic's 
bed in the night — no Ghost, bat a Somnambulist. The 
trio complete — Logic, Tom, and Jerry together. The 
cockney astray, or the Fecp-o'day Boy out of his element. 
A flying shoot — missing the bird and hitting a barn — a 
new reading for the Oxonian. The comfortable fire- 
side. Every one anxious to promote the pleasure of his 
companion, something after the manner of 

All reality, 
No formality, 
There you'd ever see : 

Old Jollyboy, the Curate — a character. Crossing the 
hand with silver — an old story, a gipsy affair. The 
Long Visitor not exactly a new acquaintance. Jerry 
fit for another start — not quite : his return to London 
postponed for a short period. Departure o/Tom, Logic, 
Blubber, 8^c.,from Hawthorn Hall. 

Jerry, having resumed his rather prepossessing api^earance, 
ventured to take his walks and rides through the neighbour- 
hood, in the same familiar manner as he had done previous 
to his visit to the Metropolis ; also make calls upon his ac- 



64 I.IFE IX AND OUT OF LOXDOX. 

quaintances, and, in return, receive the congratulations of his 
friends : amongst whom was no less a personage than the 
interesting Miss Mary Rosebud. 

Notwithstanding our hero had been generally admitted, 
amongst the circle of his acquaintances in the vicinity of 
Hawthorn Hall, to be a young man of spirit ; a fine 
companion and leader in the field, neck or nothing; a "jolly 
fellow" over the glass ; and, for a bit of chit-chat and a game 
at romps with the merry girls in the neighbourhood, a com- 
plete gay and gallant hero to all of them — yet, in the 
presence of Miss Rosebud, he felt a certain kind of awe he 
could not account for ; and her mildness of disposition and 
good temper extorted from him the most profound respect 
and admiration, almost to silence. This he attributed to 
native bashf ulness — a want of dash ; and as Jerry had 
always felt a " sneaking kindness " for Miss Rosebud, he was 
angry with himself that his tongue forsook its office, 
whenever he had made up his mind to disclose to her the 
object of his tender passion. But now the case was altered ; 
his rustic modesty was worn off a little, or rather polished 
up by the acquirement of a little toicn bronze : a most 
essential acquirement in the art of " small talk," but inaptly 
termed making love ! Jerry had so often hung upon the 
arm of his friend Tom, backed by his 2)al, Bob, who was up 
and dressed upon all suits during his \dsit in the Metropolis, 
when promenading up and down the rooms of the great 
folks, amongst the ladies — that he was determined to shake 
off this timidity — this clownish failing — and assume the easy 
nonchalance deportment of a man of good breeding and 
fashion, and " carry on the war " with gaiety, fortitude, and 
discretion. He flattered himself that he now possessed real 
courage, and not the mere assumption of valour; and, there- 
fore, " armed at all points," as he thought, he confidently 
undertook the first visit to Rosebud Cottage. Every step 
he took towards the retired dwelling of his heroine he 
calculated he should be enabled to show himself not only an 
altered but an improved man. The knocker's rattling peal 
had scarcely been attended to by the servant, and his name 



m 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. GO 

announced, when lie felt a trifling palpitation of the heart, 
not unlike Acres in the play of The JRirals, and a little of 
his assumed courage was on the point of taking its depar- 
ture ; but, when Jerry was ushered into the presence of Miss 
Rosebud, his pretended vaJour was all gone in an instant. 
He had left her in a most languid state from indisj^osition, 
but her return of health and improvement of person had 
been so great during his absence, that the charms of Miss 
Rosebud burst upon him like the sun in its meridian 
splendour. She was indeed a RosE-bud, and one of the 
most beautiful flowers in Nature's garland. It is true, the 
ladies of her acquaintance had disputed about the symmetry 
of her figure, yet the whole of them admitted her face was 
handsome, nay more, several declared it was beautiful ; * in 
fact, the w^riter pleads his inability to do justice to its attrac- 
tions, however animated and highly-coloured his description 
might be, or to convey to the reader even an outline of her 
delightfully interesting appearance. Such an attempt must 
be left to the accomplished and inimitable pencil of Sir 
Thomas Lawrence. Her accomplishments formed the 
least part of her character ; her manners were mildness 
itself ; and her general demeanour, to every person ad- 
mitted to her presence, amiable and conciliating to a degree. 
Miss Rosebud had lived the principal part of her life in 
retirement ; her family, although rich and respectable, were 



* The Corinthian, on being introduced to Miss Eosebud, gave 
it as his most decided oisinion, strengthened by the experience of 
Logic in matters of genius and art, that her face must prove highly 
attractive to the above celebrated painter, who has been so busily 
employed during his life in furnishing the heau monde with copies of 
the creation. " This great master of the art," said Ton, with peculiar 
emphasis, "whose superlative taste is united with a knowledge of 
mankind ; and whose delightful touches can make every lady's face 
heautiful, and yet preserve a most correct likeness ; will have, in paint- 
ing a portrait of Miss EosEBUD, nothing more to do than produce a 
true copy : so bountiful have been the gifts of nature to her person." 
" She will then be worth Five Hundred Pounds to j^ou,'" said Logic, 
with a smile, to the Young One. "Yes," replied Jerry, "One 
Thonsand Pounds, for anything like a copy of mi/ Mary Eosebud 
would be a trifle indeed." 



(J6 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

, p 4:^1 v«- and their acquaiutance witli 
Zt p rtTcukrly attacLd to the pleasures o a country U£e ; 

most comfortable place in tlie world. 

He was a great lover of horses, birds, '^og^- f ;' ™^ 
passionately fond of the Chase: and oft™- J^™ T^, 
ing of his daughter, he facetionsly termed he.-his pst^ 
Mo«rih." Indeed, so much was she his pet (hke lond 
fe h« n general, who think they pereeiye greater talents 
rthSr Li offspring than in the children o otW v^^r.^ 
that IUm's opinion to him was sounder law than tne 
It profound 'judgment ever ottered by the Lord Ch- 
cellor Mr RosEBtlD was determined the woild should 
no have to think ill of him if anything unfortuna ely sho^d 
C^u to his daughter, that he had not taken the greate 
S her morals": she was accordingly educated under h« 
roof and no expense was spared to render her education m 

.e!V respect ciresponding with that of a g-tWoniai, ^_ 
do not want my daughter," said he, o all ^l^^T^. 
excel any of the player-folks as to "* f"^-;^^,^,^ ""- 
neither do I wish M.«v to ^^-'f-''J'^::jl 

fessional concert ^^f ^i « XTatrn.rhoy ' in accounts, 
arithmetic, and to beat the caicuuuu„ u y 
She must not be spoiled by flattery and 1-S«^ Jl- J";^ 
ambition. Nevertheless, I should like my M.ua to be 
clever; but, in all her intercourse with society, to possess 
the retired dchcacy consistent with the -7"-^°/.;^^^; 

bred female. You take care to ""P'"™,,''''; ,7' , " vt • 
the above requisites ; and I will take care that |1- f^!'"^^ , 
slnll not ' whisper soft nonsense into her car ; JNo . i>o . 
I w^l keep a gi,d look-out for M.u.v.-not by tyranny not 
ty locks 'and bolts, not by breaking her temper, n t by 
t„,.,'. vorrls and unldnd looks .such as .night .ause lu. 



LTFE IN AND OUT OF T.OXDOX. 67 

dislike lier father, and prove disobedient to my will. No ! 
I will endeavour to explain tlie conduct of the world so 
cleai'ly to her feelings ; point out to her my fearful anxiety 
for her future welfare, after the manner of a true mirror 
which reflects her own image, that she may perceive the 
real and sincere friend in the most anxious, yet doating 
parent. Expecting one thing connected with the happi- 
ness of !Mary, I am decided — I shall expect to have 
' her heart ' in my keei)ing, until the time arrives for its 
disposal ; when that ' rich gift ' shall be my donation 
to the man I shall then select, or approve of, to be her 
husband." 

Jerry had become intimately acquainted with Mr Rose- 
bud, in consequence of their frequently hunting together 
during the season ; and the sportsman-like conduct of the 
former rendered him quite a favourite with the father of 
Mary, from his taking the most desperate leaps, clearing a 
five-banned gate " like nothing," and bringing down his bird 
to a certainty. As a companion to Old Rosebud, he was 
just the right sort of young man, full of life and spirit ; and 
their conversation generally directed to the same end, the 
Sports of the Field. But, in the company of his daughter, 
Jerry's general character of a lovemonger was not to be 
seen ; and, although no hypocrite, yet, with Mary, his 
conduct partook more of the silent admirer than the loqua- 
cious lover. It is true he had long wished to open his 
mind upon the subject to Miss Rosebud, previous to his 
departure for London ; more especially as it was the wish 
of his parents that he should " settle in life ; " and the 
families of the Rosebuds and Hawthorns being upon 
the greatest terms of intimac}', Mr and Mrs Hawthorn 
had often thrown out hints to Jerry respecting the con- 
tiguity of their estates, and the advantages and happiness 
which might be ensured if they were united by the strong 
ties of relationship. But, to the credit of Jerry, he did not 
want this sort of hint, so naturally proceeding from parents 
to their children — no ! riches were out of the question — to- 
wards Mary Rosebud he felt all the inspiration of the Poet : 



G8 LIFE IN AND OVT OF LONDON. 

" Were I crown'd the most imperial monarch, 
Thereof the most worthy ; were I the fairest youth 
That ever made eye swerve ; had fame and knowledge 
More than ever was man's, I would not prize them 
Withottt her- LOVE ; for her employ them all, 
Command them, and condemn them to her service, 
Or to their own perdition ! " 



It was the opinion of Jerry, when the time arrived for 
him to take a wife, " for better or for worse," that Miss 
E.0SEBLD was the girl that he shoukl prefer to every other 
woman that had crossed his path : he considered her as 
likely to prove a most interesting companion, and one of 
the most amiable of her sex. " But matrimony," observed 
Jerry, " is too serious a subject for me to be hurried into : " 
and he was therefore determined to have a more extensive 
intercourse with society before he became fixed for life, in 
order that his mind might be thoroughly satisfied that the 
choice which he had made was correct ; that no other 
female had given him the slightest cause to change his 
opinion respecting his true love for Miss Hosebud ; and 
that she, alone, possessed his heart : 

" For MARRIAGE is a matter of more worth 
Than to be dealt in bj- attorneysliip ! 
For, what is wedlock forced but a hell. 
An AGE of discord and continual strife ? 
Whereas the contrary bringeth forth bliss, 
And is a pattern of celestial peace." 

Miss Rosebud, at an early period, acquired the art of 
horsemanship completely, under the tuition of her father ; 
and she was extremely fond of riding, and said to be one 
of the best female riders, for her spirit and graceful scat, 
for many miles round the country. Mary often accom- 
panied Mr Rosebud, in his daily rides over Claverton 
Downs, in which Jerry, since his arrival from the Metro- 
polis, had made one of the party ; by which means he con- 
quered, in some degree, his bashfuhicss, or rather, acquired 
more fortitude in the presence of Miss Rosebud ; and, 
after considerable stiuitDicr'nKjs, lunucrous displays of aM'k- 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 60 

ward attitudes, stupid hems, and ahs ! ujiou the " tender 
subject," he plucked uj) courage, and ultimately declared 
his intentions to his dear Mary ; and likewise offered 
himself to her fathar as a candidate for her hand and heart. 
" Why, my boy," replied Old Rosebud, "as to the matter 
of that, you know, Jerry, you are a bit of a rattler, a gay 
sort of chap, and rather a general lover amongst the girls, 
if the character I have heard about you be true. I am a 
plain-spoken man, and straight-forward in all my pursuits, 
therefore we will have nothing else but a fair start. You 
are well aware that I must not have any tricks or slight 
put on my daughter ; for she is, not only in my opinion, 
but, I have the jjleasure to state, throughout all her circle of 
acquaintance, pronounced to be, ' very far from an every- 
day sort of woman.' Then thus it is, Jerry ; — as a friend 
and companion, my boy, I could squeeze your hand almost 
to pieces, to convince you of my respect, and without 
hesitation I also assert, that I should court your company 
to the day of my death ; but, in becoming my son-in-law, 
pardon me, when I say the matter assumes a very different 
aspect indeed ; and I must pause before I give a direct 
answer to your request. Jerry Hawthorn, some few 
years hence, when you may become a father, and be placed 
in the same critical situation as myself, you will applaud 
the motives which now compel me to assume the stern 
judge on a subject so closely connected with the future 
happiness of my daughter. You are young, and time 
must be allowed for you to reflect upon the matter ; or, in 
other words, to deliberate before you resolve ! But, t3 the 
point : — I can only agree to put you on your trial ; and 
if I find, ultimately, a verdict is given in your favour, j^ou 
may rely on my friendship so far in your behalf that I 
shall not move for a new trial." 

"Agreed," cried Jerry, quite in raptures with the manly 
yet feeling and generous decision of Mr Rosebud, " and if 
I am found wanting either in gratitude towards you, my 
best of friends, or deficient in respect, kindness, and love 
towards Mary, why then discard me entirely from your 



7'J LIFE IN AND OUT OF LOXUOX. 

notice." It is not to be denied but Mary had a penchant 
towards our hero ; indeed Jerry was a favourite generally 
with, the Fair Sex ; but her situation, as a modest female, 
foi'bade her from making known the object of her passion ; 
and propriety also taught her never to let the secret escape 
from her lips. Of course, then, she felt pleased with the 
declaration of Jerry in her favour, and with a frankness of 
disposition, that none, perhaps, but prudes would quarrel 
with, acknowledged that he was not totally indifferent to 
her, something after the manner of Juliet, in the garden- 
scene, to Romeo : — 

" If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully ! 
Or, if thou think'st I am too quichlij WON, 
V\\ frown and he, perverse, and say thee NAY, 
So thou wilt woo, but else not for the world." 

Mary, however, in the most ingenuous manner, hinted 
to our hero the necessity of firmly making up his mind 
upon a subject so seriously connected with their happiness, 
also pointing out for his consideration the great dangers 
met with in society, after the strongest vows had been ex- 
changed between the parties ; and that constancy was 
the only proof of a real undivided attachment. Jerry once 
more assured Miss Rosebud of his attachment towards her 
person and family, and likewise urged that no doubts ought 
to exist for a moment respecting the sincerity of his passion. 
Everything being now settled to the satisfaction of both 
" their houses," Miss Rosebud and Jerry Hawthorn 
were recognised by all their friends and acquaintances as 
— a pair of true lovers. 

The time of our hero, it might be said, Avas most plea- 
santly occupied by his repeated visits to Rosebud Cottage ; 
and, in general, he spent his evenings in the society of his 
dear Mary, whose songs and delightful touches on the piano- 
forte were capable of delaying the visitor at all times, and, 
to a lover, were sources of attraction not to be resisted. 
During one of these interesting moments, his servant came 
runniue: out of breath to announce that an " uncunimonlv 



LIFE IX AND our OF LONDON'. 71 

bio" ffcntleman " had arrived at Hawthorn IIali., who 
was anxious to see Master Jerry. " It is Sir John," 
observed Jerry, A\'itb a smile, on the man presenting bis 
card to bira : on one side appered, " Sir John Blubber, 
Knt.," and on the otber, written tvitb a black lead pencil — 
" Ml/ son ! Jack's arrired ! " Our hero begged pardon 
for bis abrupt dejDarturc, on leaving the company, and 
returned to his father's house to entertain the fat Knight. 

The friendly reception the " uncommonly big gentleman " 
met with, from Mr and Mrs Hawthorn, without the 
formality of an introduction, was extremely pleasing to the 
feelings of Sir John, and also convinced him of the hospi- 
table disposition of the persons under whose roof he was 
about to sojourn for a short time ; but, when Jerry 
grasped his hand expressing the satisfaction he felt on Sir 
John keeping his word with him — the fat Knight in 
ecstasy roared- out, " Islj son I my son ! such liberal it y of 
conduct must prove highly gratifying to a relative ; but to 
a mere stranger, a passenger on the top of a stage-coach, 
kind — very kind — beyond description." Every attention 
was paid to the wants of Sir John, who soon made him- 
self as free and easy as if he had taken a chair in his o^ti 
dwelling : the evening passed merrily away in conversation 
respecting passing events, during which the Old Maid of 
Bath came in for a small notice ; and the talents of Bill Pnt- 
'em-along, as a whip, were not forgotten by the fat Knight. 
The " gaily circling glass " gave a zest to the anecdotes told 
during the night, until the hour of repose had arrived, when 
Sir John and the rest of the party retired to bed. 

During the time the company were assembled at the 
breakfast-table the next morning, a letter was delivered to 
Jerry from London : " I perceive by the seal," said he, " it 
is from my much-valued friend, Bob Logic. I am sure it 
is full of fun. Sir John. Logic is just that sort of merry 
fellow you would be deKghted with ; his company is excel- 
lent ; he is never dull ; and, upon all occasions, whether it 
tells for or against him, his conduct exemplifies the character 
of a true philosopher : — 



72 LIFE IN AND OVT OF LONDON. 

A MERRIER man. 
Within the limit of becoming mirth, 
I never spent an hour's talk withal. 
His eye begets occasion for his wit, 
For every object that the one doth catch, 
The other turns to a mirth-moving jest ; 
Which his fair tongue (conceit's exjiositor) 
Delivers in such apt and gracious words. 
That aged ears play truant at his tales, 
And younger hearings are quite ravished : 
So sweet and voluble is his discourse. 

" After sliglitly glancing my eye over the contents of my 
friend Bob's letter," said Jerry, "if you will permit me, Sir 
John, that is, if you feel any sort of interest in it, after the 
outline I have given you of Logic, I will read it to you." 
" By all means," replied the fat Knight, " it must be amus- 
ing : pray proceed." Our hero then read, with an audible 
voice, as follows : — 

LoYKjs Hotel, Bond Street. 
Dear Jerry, 
That you may be perfectly satisfied no great movements have taken 
place in London since your departure, I have to inform you, St Paul's 
Cathedral has not moved a single jot; Westminster Abbey keeps 
her old station ; and the Monument, on which Pope so satirically 
observes, — 

Where London's column, pointing to the skies, 
Like a tall bully, lifts the head and lies, 

remains precisely on the same spot as when you left it. But, to be 
serious : I met the Corinthian, the other day, in the Grand 
Lounge, amongst all the Tigers of note, the Lions, and other Oreut 
Creatures belonging to the Menageries of Fashion ; but ov.y principal 
chat was about your-se//; when Tom and 1 entered into an agreement 
to give Bath a turn for a few days, and also to visit you at Hawthorn 
Hall. The Corinthian is hang-tip to the standard of health ; he 
has been ruralising for some time past at Melton Mowbray, and hunt- 
ing with the crack si^ortsmen composing that brilliant assemblage of 
" good ones." As to myself, I am tol. lol. ; things with me are looking 
rather ?(j:>-ish ; but they have been down-'ish. a "tiny bit" too long. I 
have leit the Fleet, and given up my commission on that tack ; and 
once more, to all intents and purposes, become a landsman, I met 
with a bit of a windfall the other day ; and, though " not as deep as a 
well, or as wide as a barn-door," it will do for the present ; and I con- 
tent myself with the old adage, ' ' It's a bad wind that blows no one 



LIFE IX AND OUT OF LONDON. 73 

any good." I paid a visit, a few days since, to my Old Motheu,* 
merely to kill time, and to shake hands with the " (jood fellows." 
However, I have the pleasure to inform you, that I had the resolution 
to steer clear of the ''Fields of Temptation ;" and, although I do not 
like to turn my back upon " the Unfortunates," yet I deemed it 
prudent not to call at the " Castle of St. Thomas .'" I have made up 
my mind, in future, most carefully to avoid being found at Point 
Nonplus ; the dangers attendant upon Eiver Tick shall be kept 
in view ; and I trust I shall never again split on the rocks of " DuN 
Territory." 

There have been numerous inquiries after the " Young One," by 
the Muslin Compo.)iy\ since your departure from London ; and the 
" Care-for-Nohodies ";J: have been equally solicitous about your state of 
health. You have likewise missed some out-and-out events by your 
absence ; but j^ou must positively return to Babylon for a FINISH ! 
The " Middle Hemisphere,''^ I am quite aware, is too placid : and pos- 
sesses too much of the precise and routine for either you or me ; it does 
not suit our books, — the pounds, shillings, and pence account, to wit ; 
but the TWO other Worlds may be again visited with profit and 
amusement to the spectators. The HIGH, Loiv, Jack, and the GAMb] 
sort of folks I Those animated pages of society, in which every leaf is 
found to prove an interesting event ; and the great volume itself, a 
mirror of the most fascinating description. The toddles of Dusty Bob, 
and all " that ere sort of thing," have their imj^ortauce in the scale of 
human nature, when contrasted with the splendid Paradise of the 
Corinthians — regions created by taste, elegance, and art. I love to 
act upon the lesson I was taught in early life, at Oxford, from the 
words of Terence, and which I always wish you to bear in mind : — 

Homo sum humani nil a me alienum puto ! 

It had nearly escaped my memory to say that Kate, in the pro- 
menade at the Grand Lounge, looked like a Divinity ; her style and 
manners were so superior and attractive to the eyes of all the party, 
my dear Jerry, that they were calculated to vex a Duchess, put a 
Countess out of temper, and make a Eight Honourable Dame quite 
angry, that the bounteous gifts of Nature left birth and fashion at an 
immeasurable distance — as to the look of the thing. By all the Caps 
at my mother's, the eye of Sue put my sjiecs. to the rout ; there was 
something so roguish and dazzling about the corner of it, when she 
said, " I hope you have disposed of the 'Young One,' (as you call 
him) well I He is Tinder good care, no doubt. Soon be about again, 



* Logic always in his discourse, when the University of Oxford was 
med, called it " his Mother ! " 
f A cant phrase for — Ladies. 
, 1 Incorrigible Chaps; anything like regularity or discretion not to 
found in their catalogue of events. 



74 LIFE IX AND OUT OF LONDON. 

Mr. Logic, vront he ? Forests and trees are very reuovating to sports- 
men ; but the Dryades must be on their guard against so gallant a 
Silvaniis." " But you have not finished him, have you, Mi". L. ? He 
•was a most promising pupil," said Kate, with a satirical smile ; " shall 
•we have him amongst us once more ? It would be a libel on his 
learned tutors to let him remain nALF-««r?-HALF. Poor young man, 
I really jJi'ty his condition, as he has left you neither one thing nor the 
other I " 

The new turn-ovt of Tom's is of the first stare ! A King must ap- 
plaud his taste, a Prince like to have the fellow to it, and a Duke might 
sigh to be termed the inventor of such a dashing, splemlid equipage. 
The tits are all pictures, every one of them fully answering the char- 
acter of the chaimt — 

"He's an eye like a hawk, and a neck like a swan, 
He's a foot like a cat, and his back's a longish span ; 
Kind Nature formed him so, that he's honest as he's good ; 
He's everything a horse should be, — he's bottom, boxe, and BLOOD ! 

The ribands — in fact, the -whole of the caparison, is elegance itself; 
and the finish of the thing is a perfect treat to the lovers of coachman- 
ship, •when they witness Tom mount the box, and put the whole in 
motion. 

I am not much of a Shot, as yoii know, Jerry ; but, nevertheless, I 
shall often have a touch at the feathered tribe, during my rudication. 
Tiie best birds that I like to bag are the guldfiuches ! They are re- 
ceived as most valuable presents, by our friends in town and country. 

I shall bring down my " Jong one," which will enable me to add a 
few more clouds to your neighourhood ; although I should be ex- 
tremely sorry to spoil, in the slightest degree, the purity of your atmo- 
sphere : and have no pretensions to astronomy. I am also moi'e of a 
piper than a cigar hero: and a great aversion to nosing uTpon any 
subject. 

Tom and I sincerely hope we shall find you perfectly recovered, as 
we picture to ourselves a most plcasunt time of it during our stay at 
Hawthorn Hall. The precise day is not exactly fixed between us, 
but, b-'ingwell assured that you are always to be found at the scratch, 
•we .shall visit you the first convenient opportunity. Most likely we 
shall follow the Jiecls of this letter. 

I remain, my dear Jerry, 

Yours trul)', 
Jer7y Hawthorn, Esq. Bob Logic. 

P.S . — I am about putting the stifier on the fiame ; and I am heartily 
glad I have got those things out of my head, before the dustman had 
put me to rest upon the subject. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 75 

On Jeury's coucludiiig the letter, it was the unanimous 
opinion of the breakfast party that Logic; was a most 
facetious fellow ; also a man of considerable talents ; u 
person who had mixed very much with the various classes 
of society in Loudon ; and who likewise had made man- 
kind one of his principal studies. " I shall think the time 
an age until he arrives," said the fat Knight ; " and I have 
an immense desire to be introduced to your cousin, the 
Corinthian, whose adventures in the Great World have 
made so loud a report." " Nothing, Sir John," replied 
Jerry, " I assure you, could give me greater pleasure, than 
to introduce one good fellow to another ; and I have little 
doubt we shall see them in the course of a day or two 
amongst us. They are always on the alert." 

The Corinthian, anxious to keep his promise with 
Jerry, and having made his arrangements for that purpose, 
set out, accompanied by Logic, and soon lost sight of 
Hyde Park Corner. Bustle and incident being the life and 
soul of our heroes in all their pursuits, the following occur- 
rence, during their journey, formed the subject which the 
annexed plate represents : — " Travellers see strange things ! " 
Logic without his sjyecs. ; the mistake of a night ; the hotel 
in an uproar ; Tom, sword in hand, backed by a petticoat ; 
false alarm ! but no ghost ! The Somnambulist awake ! 
UP ! ! but not DOWN. The Corinthian and Logic on 
the road to visit Jerry at Hawthorn Hall, arrived 
rather late at Bath, and sojourned for the night at one of 
the hotels in the above fashionable place. Bob, previous 
to his entering the dab, had committed his thoughts to 
paper respecting some of his alfairs in town, and, according 
to his usual custom, when an opportunity offered, perused 
a page or two of his favourite author ; but according to his 
own description of the affair, " finding the dustman getting 
the best of him, he hastily pulled off his toggery, doused 
the glim, measured his length on the feathers, wished all 
his friends well, and, as a wind-up to the day, with the 
utmost sincerity of heart, although short (in his opinion), but 
to the purpose, 'hoped that God would be merciful to him 



76 LIFE IN AKD OUT OF LONDON. 

as a sinner.' He soon afterwards closed his peeper a, and 
became of no t(se to anybody." In bis baste to get into 
bed, the nigbt bolt bad escaped bis memory, and^ in conse- 
quence of tbis neglect, bis bedroom door remained insecure ! 
But just at 

The very witcliing time of night, 
When chui-chyards yawn, 

Logic started from bis sleep witb aifrigbt, on bebolding 
bis door open, and in stalked a figure in wbite, tall and 
tbin as a May-pole, witb a glimmering ligbt in bis band. 
It is true, tbe ap)})arition did not come like ghosts in 
general, witb three loud and distinct knocks ! accompanied 
witb a boUow voice, sajdng, " List ! list ! Oh list ! " but 
nevertbeless bis sj)ectre-like appearance extorted from poor 
Bob— 

Angels and ministers of grace defend us ! 

Be thou a spirit ! speak ! I charge thee, speak ! 

But Bob migbt as well bave sung psalms to a dead borse. 
Tbe loHfj spectre beeded not tbe ajDpeals of Logic, but wdtb 
tbe utmost composure sat bimself down in tbe cbair ; 
and not only knocked down Bob's favourite autbor, but 
actually set fire to bim ! Logic, in bis agitation, more 
especially being witbout bis specs., could not exactly make 
out bis unw^elcome visitor, tberefore rang tbe bell violently, 
and sung out loudly for belp. Tbis noise immediately 
created a bustle and confusion in all parts of tbe botel. 

Tom, on bearing tbe cries of Logic, jumped out of bed, 
scrambled on bis morning gown, seized bold of bis sword, 
and flew to tbe assistance of bis friend. Tbe old landlady, 
merely to make berself decent, put on ber under petticoat, 
and tbrew a sbawl over ber sboulders ; and tbe master of 
tbe botel, in bis frigbt, instantly repaired to tbe spot witb a 
poker in bis band. — " Wbat's tbe matter?'' asked Tom. 
" I really don't know," replied Logic ; " but first give me 
my specs., and tben I'll tell you more about tbe matter. I 
tbink it is d d unfair, to take ad^•a^tage of anv man 



1,1 FE IN AXI) OUT OF LONDON . • / t 

without his eyes ! Secure that hug Ghost ! " But, puttino^ 
on his glasses, and finding out his mistake, in a peremptory 
tone, he said, " I insist upon your laying hold of that thief." 
" You must be mistaken, Bob ; he's no thief ! " answered 
Tom. " No, that he an't, I'll answer for it," cried the old 
landlady ; " he's what our servants call the tall thin gentle- 
man, who sleeps in No. 27, in the gallery. He is one of 
the most harmless creatures alive ; but I must be off — the 
poor thin gentleman has got )wthing on him." " What has 
he robbed you of. Bob?" said Tom. "Why," answered 
Logic, rather more composed, and with a smile upon his 
countenance, ** I have lost — what is to me of the greatest 
importance — mij rest ! " " Psha ! " replied Tom, " You 
always will have your joke ; and at other people's expense. 
The gentleman appears to be asleejD. I will endeavour to 
awake him, and point out the mistake and confusion he has 
created throughout the hotel." "I would be obliged to 
you, Tom, if it is in your power," said Logic, " to make 
him fly I Get him up, at all events ; or send him down, if 
possible. It will be all the same to me, so that the Som- 
nambulist, for such I suppose he must be, does but make 
his exit J' The most gentle means were resorted to by the 
Corinthian, to render the Somnambuijst sensible of his 
unpleasant situation, and some difficulty occurred in the 
attempt ; but, at length, opening his eyes, he stared about 
in the ^dldest manner, and, upon recollecting himself, he 
seemed to feel surprised and disgusted with his nuditi/- 
like appearance. The Si,eep-walker apologised to Tom 
and Logic in the best manner he was able. " Gentlemen," 
said he, "I really am at a loss what to offer to you 
upon this unpleasant affair ; but, when I am better dressed 
for the jmrt, which I hope will be to-morrow morning, 
I flatter myself I shall meet with a liberal and gentle- 
manly audience, before whom it is my intention to make a 
suitable apology." The Somnambulist then made his bow, 
and with rapid strides regained his apartment in the gallery. 

Adieu, thou dreary pile ! 

cried Logic, when Tom and he laughed heartily at this 



78 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

adventure, and both regretted that Jerry was not of the 
party. ''Once more, r/ood 7n'g//f / " said the Corinthian; 
" but, in case the Long Visitor shoukl again walk forth, 
be in readiness for him, Bob — go to sleep in your specs. ! " 
Tom retired to his room ; and Logic was soon afterwards 
lost in the arms of Somnus. 

Early the next morning, after the above curious adven- 
ture, Logic received the following laconic yet singular note 
bv one of the waiters at the Hotel, during his breakfast : 



Sir, 

I am now wide awahe ! therefore, I flatter myself, you 
will have the kindness to permit me, in fropria persona, to apologise 
to j-ou for being asleep last night ; in order that I may be at rest in 
future on so very unpleasant a subject. 

I remain, Sir, 
Yours, &c., with my eyes open, 

Phil. Splinter. 
To the GthtJimen who were 
ROBBED of their repose. 



^___^^_Thk is_an_ori£inal,'' said Bob, ** I'll bet one hundred ! " 
as he handed over the note to Corinthian Tom. " Let 
us have a look at him ! I should like to take a synopsis of 
his koikness by daylight." " With all my heart," answered 
Tom. " Waiter, inform Mr Splinter we shall be happy 
to see him ! " 

This request was instantly obeyed, by the appearance of 
Mr Splinter before our heroes : his strides were immense ; 
he bowed his head as he entered the door of the apartment, 
like geese entering a barn ; and the tout ensemble, accord- 
ing to Logic, was more like the monument dressed in a 
fashionable suit of clothes, or after the manner of a tall 
figure decked out for a pantomime, than a person belonging 
to the human race. On his being seated his frame was so 
erect that he appeared like a man on horseback ; and the 
assumed (jravity of Tom was with great difficulty upheld, 
and Bob was in danger of being choked hy his attempt to 
fcu] press loud laughter. "Gentlemen," said Mr Sri, inter, 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF I.ONUOX. 71) 

♦' I am very sorry you were disturbed by my lony visit last 
night; but I hojae no ill consequences have arisen from 
such a ludicrous mistake. Such a comjjlaint has lonfj been 
a source of affliction to me ; but I cannot always be awake ; 
and, unfortunately, our family have long been subject to 
somnolenci/. Isly ancestors originally belonged to Deal; 
and were person.«>, I assure you, who stood very Jtigh in the 
world. A long speech would be unnecessary to gentlemen 
travellers like yourselves ; indeed, I am afraid I have occu- 
pied your time too long already on a subject of so droa-xij 
a nature. I shall Jong feel the kindness you have displayed 
to me on this occasion ; and I trust that our next meetins: 
will be far from a sleepij one ; and also that our acquaint- 
ance may have a long duration." " It is impossible to be 
shorf," replied Logic, with a smile, " you are such a //igh 
fellow I " Mr Splinter then pressed our heroes to honour 
him with their compan}^ to dine, and spend the remainder 
of the day with him at the Hotel ; but Tom and Logic 
excused themselves on account of their anxiety to arrive at 
Hawthorn Hall. Mr Splinter again solicited Logic 
to name some other period, either in town or country ; 
when Tom, sans cerenioiue, answered, " Give us a friendly 
call at my Cousin Jerry's, where you may be assured of 
meeting with a most hearty welcome ; and do not let it be 
long before we experience that pleasure." With this assur- 
ance the Soninambnlisf retired. "We must indeed," said 
Lr)Gic, " consider him as the longest of our acquaintance : 
and he seems so very much attached to the word lo)ig, that 
it would almost infer he was an admirer of his long figure 
than oiherwise. It was scarcely anything but long, long, 
and long to the end of his apology." The post-chaise was 
at the door, and our heroes without delay pursued their 
journey. 

The an-ival of Corinthian Tom and Logic at Haw- 
thorn Hall produced, throughout the whole of the family 
and their visitors, every demonstration of joy except an 
illumination. The trio was once more complete ; and Sir 
John Dlchbei?, bv the introduction of Jerky, admitted to 



80 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

be one of their pah, to participate in all their adventures in 
the country. Hawthorn Hai,l, by the accumulation of 
visitors, was one continued scene of gaiety, hospitality, and 
friendship. Rustic sports in the morning ; jolly dinners 
during the day ; musical parties and balls in the evening, 
were given to prove that our heroes were not deficient in 
gaUantry to the neighbouring fair ones ! A variety of comic 
scenes were the results of these parties ; and one of them, 
not the least fraught with incident, is depicted in the oppo- 
site plate : — Going off in a hurry', but not making a noke 
in the world. Logic's slippery state of affairs. A random 
hit : " milling the glaze " and the upper works of Old 
Thatchpate not insured? Jerry too late to prevent his 
friend Bob "■ being in for it," and the fat Knight enjoying 
the scene, and laughing like fun at Logic's disaster ! Logic, 
it should seem, did not like to lead an idle life during his 
stay at Hawthorn Hall, and therefore was determined 
to accompany the " Young One " in his sporting pursuits : 
and he agreed to go out very early in the morning, accom- 
panied by the " uncommonly big gentleman," to enjoy the 
rustic pleasures of what is termed a Hying shoot ? By peep- 
o'-day the above parties were in the field, on the look-out 
for game ; a favourable opportunity offering to Logic, he 
prepared himself to commit great slaughter amongst the 
feathered tribe ; but, unfortunately for the Oxonian, the ice 
on which he stood gave way — in an instant, Bob was sur- 
rounded by numerous events, and none of them winning 
ones : Logic was up to his knees in the water ; his hat was 
absent without leave ; his gun went off by accident, and 
Old Thatciipate's casement was shattered to pieces. 
Just at this juncture, Jerry, hearing the report of a gun, 
came up to Bob to inquire, what luek ? " Lots of luck of 
some sort ! " replied Logic ; " I am down, and the birds 
are fly ! but it's a flying shoof, and that accounts for it. 
However, it was a slippery trick they played off against 
me : I am in for it, and so is Old Clodpole ! " " Hallo, 
Logic; ! " said the fat Knight, laughing, and waving his hat, 
" I am out of it ! What a capital marksman not to miss a 
cottage! Who is your gun-nuiker, Mr Locnc? You are 



LIFE IN -VXD OUT OF LONDON. 81 

a (hep one, an't you, Bob ? " " I am only KNEE-deep in this 
affair ; and that is too deej) for me, Sir Jack. My ambition 
as to shooting is cooled a little, I must own," replied Bob. 
" Fine times, indeed, when folks can't rest in their beds ! " 
said Old Thatchpate, growling with revenge, clenching 
his fist, and putting his head out of the casement ; " a 
parcel of stray Cockneys breaking people's windows before 
they are up, frightening all my children, and startling the 
poultry. I should like to know who granted a license to 
such a queer-looking man like that, who can't see an inch 
before his nose, to sJwot in spectacles ! But I'll know 
more about it. I'll not lose sight of him. I am sure he is 
no qualified man. I don't think he ever had a gun in his 
hand before to-day ; I will have him before the magistrates 
without delay ; indeed, it would be a sin to let such awkward 
and dangerous fellows escape. They ought not to be trusted 
with guns, putting everybody's life in peril." " Go down 
immediately, feyther," screamed out Dame Thatchpate, 
" and seize hold of that comical-looking Lunnun chap, and 
make him pay for the damage he has done ; besides fright- 
ening all my little squeakers and hens to death," 

Old Thatchpate took the hint from his rib, who did 
not appear, by her voice, to be one of the mildest charac- 
ters belonging to the fair sex ; and, as soon as Logic had 
extricated himself from the pond, shivering with cold, and 
ere the loud laughter of Sir John and Jerry had subsided, 
the Cottager, in a great rage, was at the heels of the Ox- 
onian, and demanded some recompense for the damage his 
windows had sustained by the random shots of Logic. 
"Come, Master Cottager," said the fat Knight, "you must 
not be too hard on my friend, the Cockney ; — he was only 
taking an ice. Be temperate ; Mr. Logic is a Kberal gentle- 
man, and will not let a poor man like you suffer on his 
accoimt ; he will make you amends for your broken win- 
dows." " Yes," replied the Oxonian, " I think. Sir John, I 
can hit Master Cottager with some shot I have got in my 
bag ; bring him down too ; and also make him laugh the 
other side of his mouth : that is the recompense I mean to 



82 



LIFE IN AND OIT OF LONDON. 



give him." " You had better not try it, Mr Linumner," 
answered Old Thatchpate, quite angrily ; " although I 
am getting rather old, I can h'cic twenty such queer made-up 
chaps as you are." " You may be mistaken," said Logic, 
smiling; " therefore take care of yourself; as soon as I can 
get hold of my shot, I'll mark you ; " and, feeling in his 
pocket, pulled out a sovereign, and hastily putting it into 
Old Thatchpate's hand, observed, "Don't you love the 
King's jikture !^^ "Yes, that I do," replied Thatchpate. 
" Then keep it for his sake." " That is the right sort of 
8lwi for London sportsmen," said Sir John, " for bringing 
the game to Leadenhall Market. I never Icnew golden shot 
to miss the most difficult birds that fly ; it mud bring them 
down." " I am sorry," said Logic to the Cottager, " I have 
been the cause oifnghtening your wife so much ; but it was 
an accident, or else it would not have occurred." " It being 
an accident, you know, Sir," with a sort of knowing grin upon 
his face, answered Thatchpate, quite pleased with the 
sovereign, " completely alters the case ! Never mind my 
Dame, she is a fidgety sort of a body, but yet no harm in 
her ; and had I have known you had been a friend of young 
Squire Hawthopn's, I would not have said one word about 
the matter. But you had better come into the cottage, it is 
a pity you should take cold. I daresay, Sir, you are not used 
to this sort of sport. Here, Dame, why doesn't come down, 
and give some assistance to a gentleman who has fallen 
into the water, and chilled almost to an ague ? Come, make 
haste, and let us have a large fire for the gentleman to dry 
his clothes." [Showing her the sovereign.) " That's what I 
will, feyther," answered Dame Thatchpate, "I am really 
sorry for the circumstance ; but we will soon make him com- 
fortable." 

Logic, who did not profess to be an out-and-out sports- 
man, like Jerry, preferred the o2)portunity of drj^ing him- 
self by a good fire, to walking about after more birds, in 
his wet clothes : and therefore most cheerfully accepted the 
offer of the Cottager and his wife, whose attentions now to 
the Oxonian were almost too kind, — such a change had been 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 83 

effected in their opinions respecting the queer made-up chap 
by the receipt of the sovereign. Sir John and Jerry pur- 
sued their sporting career, and left Logic snugly seated in 
the cottage. 

The Oxonian, always contented under any circumstances, 
and determined to make himself happy and comfortable, if 
happiness was in his reach, according to the idea of the 
Poet :— 

Fix'd to no spot is happiness sincere ; 
'Tis nowhere to be found, or ev'rywhere ; 
Condition, circumstance is not the thing — 
Bliss is the same in subject or in king, 
Order is heaven's first law ; and this confest, 
Some are, and must be greater than the rest ; 
More rich, more wise — but who infers from hence 
That such are happier, shocks all common sense ! 

partook of the homely breakfast which the Cottager and his 
wife laid before him, with as much pleasure and satisfaction 
as if he had been seated at the most splendid coffee-house in 
the Metropolis — served up with silver plate, and a stylish 
waiter to attend his nod. Logic soon made himself familiar, 
and quite at home with the cottagers, and entered into dis- 
course with them sans ceremonie. ^' You know Squire 
Hawthorn, of Hawthorn Hall, I suppose, very well ? " 
" yes. Sir ! Gfod bless him ! " said Dame Thatchpate, 
" he is one of the kindest, best-hearted men in this neighbour- 
hood ; and the family is a very ancient one, and very much 
respected for miles round this part of the country. The 
Hawthorns have always been considered topping-folks ; 
charitable and humane, and ever ready to relieve the wants 
of their fellow-creatures. Me and mine have received many 
kindnesses from them." " I am glad to find you are grateful 
for past favours," replied Logic. " Yes, Sir, what Dame 
says be very true. The Squire is a mortal good man, and 
makes allowances, and such things like, for us poor people ; 
and young Squire be far from a bad one, although they say 
he is rather loildish ; but, between you and me, Sir, he will 
mend upon that complaint as he grows older. Young Squire 

G 2 



84 LIFE IN AND OVT OF LONDON. 

is a great favoiirite among the topping farmers' daughters in 
these parts ; indeed, I do not wonder at it," said Thatchpate, 
" as he is a very fine-looking young man ; and, for a sports- 
man, I never saw anything like him ; he is the boldest rider 
in all Sir Harry Blood's hunt — he leaps over hedges and 
ditches, and the highest gates, with as much ease and com- 
posure as I can make hay ; and, for a shot. Lord bless you. 
Sir, he sets all our young gentry at defiance : a better marks- 
man I never saw in the course of my life ; and if I had seen 
you in company with him this morning, I should not have 
said what I did — it is all a mistake, and I now ask your 
pardon. It is impossible to tell everybody by their looks, you 
know. Sir ; and I took you for one of those strangers, who do 
not care what damage they do to other person's property, so 
they can but enjoy their sport." " I must confess," replied 
Logic, "my looks are not much in my favour." "N^o, no, I 
do not mean that, neither," answered Old Thatchpate, 
rather confused, " but I hope you will forgive me, as I am 
but an ignorant man, and not used to sit down in company 
with such a gentleman." The frame of Logic was now 
rendered quite comfortable ; his clothes were dry, and he 
prepared himself to take leave of the Cottagers ; but previous 
to which, he pulled out his purse, and selected a half-sovereign, 
as a present to Dame Thatchpate, for her readiness in 
making up a good fire, also waiting upon him, and, with the 
utmost cheerfulness, bringing forth every article of refresh- 
ment which the cottage afforded, for his breakfast. Her eyes 
sparkled with delight, on receiving the piece of gold. " Keep 
it," said Logic, with a smile, " in remembrance of the little 
queer made-up chap from Lunnun, who frightened all your 
squeakers ! " "I am really ashamed, Sir, that such words 
should have passed," answered Dame Thatchpate, " but I 
hope you will forget and forgive." " If you wish for any 
more sport this morniug, Sir," observed the Cottager, " I can 
tell you of a place where you will be likely to find some 
birds." " I thank you," replied Logic, " but I do not wish 
for any more slippery tricks to-day ; and, therefore, the 
feathered tribe may all go to roost for me ; I will not disturb 
them." The Cottager, with the utmost readiness, acted as a 



I.IFK IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 85 

guide to the Oxonian through the fields and bye-lanes, until 
be obtained the direct road to Hau-thorn Hall, the sight of 
which gave Logic great pleasure. Upon meeting with the 
father of Jerry, as he entered the house, he related the 
disasters of the *^ jiying shoot ! " with so much merriment and 
grimace, as to set the old gentleman and his servants in a 
complete roar of laughter. 

In the course of a few hours afterwards Sir John and 
Jerry appeared in sight, with lots of game, and congratulated 
the Oxonian on his safe arrival at HaiotJiora Hall, yet re- 
gretted his absence, as they had met with such excellent 
sport. "I thank you both," replied Logic, "but it is all 
right with me ; it might have been worse ; and now I am 
once more under the hospitable roof of youx father, and 
surrounded by the right sort of friends, to shew you that I 
am not deficient in gratitude for my deliverance from the 
' vasty deep,' I am determined dalness shall not find a corner 
amongst us this evening." The effects of this determination 
are shown in the annexed plate, which delineates Jerry at 
home ; the enjoyments of a comfortable fireside ; Logic all 
happiness ; Corinthian Tom at his ease ; the "Old Folks " 
in their glory ; and the " uncommonly big Gentleman," 
* told out,' taking /o/-/y winks. Corinthian Tom always held 
it as sound doctrine, that change of scene and variety were 
the greatest charms of life, and tended to produce content, 
promote health, and go a long way towards realising 
longevity. The gay, the united Trio may be here witnessed 
once more in tune, with the fundamental harmony, according 
to Logic, added to it, of " the uncommonly big Gentleman " 
to take part in a quartette as the base. It must be admitted 
that the scene altogether appears a happy one ; the company 
all actively engaged upon various topics. Bob, as usual, in 
order to make the company merry, is reading a laughable 
police account from a London newspaper to Jerry's mamma, 
who is so much tickled by the drollery of the circumstance, as 
to give way to loud laughter ; and Tim Bumkin, the waiting- 
man, is likewise so much convulsed with the subject, as to 
spill the wine over the garments of the Oxonian, apologising 



86 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

at the same time for his lack of attention to the company, in 
consequence of the irresistible comic humour displayed by 
Mr Logic. The father of Jerry, seated in the corner, en- 
joying his pipe is challenging Old Jollyboy, the Curate of 
the parish, and schoolmaster to his son in his boyish days, to 
fill another horn of his " prime October." The Curate was 
one of the most regular men alive ; and a great stickler for 
everything in its place. "A sermon," he said, "was good ; 
all men ought to be good ; eating and drinking ought to be 
good ; and hunting was good, i.e. good exercise ; and to take 
care of one's self was, most certainly, good." Old Jolly- 
boy's answer, at the conclusion of every question put to 
him, was — " good ! " For instance, " You had better take 
a glass of old Jamaica, Mr Jollyboy, to fortify your inside 
against cold on your road home," said Logic. — " Good ! " 
was the reply. " Come, wet t'other eye," cried Bob, cutting 
one of his comical mugs, " all Jolly bogs do so ; Good 
people are very scarce, you know, and I like to be ortho- 
dox / " — "Excellently ^oort'," replied the Curate; "you are 
not only a good wag, Mr Logic, but possess a good under- 
standing upon all subjects ! " Miss Rosebud has hold of 
Jerry's arm, who is pointing out to her his friend Bob, 
stating, that he is one of the funniest fellows in the universe ! 
" Good ! " said Old Jollyboy. The daughter of the Curate 
(an interesting and well-informed girl), who is seated by the 
side of the Corinthian, is complimenting Tom on the excel- 
lence of his song ; but Miss Jollyboy rather satirically doubts 
the assertion of the sing-er : — 



Tliough Love's charms oft warm my breast, 
Yet roving Love but breaks the rest ; 
One kind heart is enough for me, 
Although my name's Variety ! 



" Good ! Good ! and GOOD ! to the end of the chapter," 
cried Old Joi lyboy, quite in raptures with the discrimina- 
tion of his daughter. The " uncommonly big Gentleman " 
is told out with fatigue ; and, in order to " come to time " 
when the supper is announced, he is taking, on the sly 



],1KE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 87 

"forty winks." The huntsman hanging up the horn; the 
little girl and her doll ; the child playing with the kitten ; 
the greyhound at the feet of Tom ; the domestic happy 
couple contiguous to the fireside ; the stag's head and 
horns ; guns ; the brushes of Reynard, &c., &c., making the 
above interesting group complete. All of them speak for 
themselves, and require no further illustration, only we may 
observe, that the talents of the artist appear extremely 
conspicuous, by his representation of " a comfortable fire- 
side." 

On the breaking up of the company. Old Rosebud ob- 
served to the Curate, " I had no idea it was so late; I have 
spent one of the most delightful evenings of my life : time 
has been on the wing, indeed ; and Mr Logic is a host 
within himseK, as to mirth and humour." " Good I " replied 
JoLLYBOY, " it is almost a pity such lively fellows should 
ever part ! " " Very good ! " said the Curate. " But I hojDO 
we shall have one or two more comfortable meetings before 
our guests leave us for London," urged Mr BL^wthorn. 
" Better than good ! " was the answer of the worthy Curate ; 
"and I am almost sorry to say, good-nighi." Upon our 
heroes conducting Miss Rosebud to her residence, the 
father of our heroine proposed to Jerry and his friends 
to join him in the hunt the next morning, which request 
was immediately acceded to, without the slightest dissen- 
sion. Jerry was ready to start at the first signal to follow 
his favourite pursuit ; and Tom equally on the alert to join 
in the " Tally -lio cry ; " but Logic wished to back out: he 
pleaded inexperience ; that he was a bad horseman ; and a 
great length of time had elapsed since he had joined the 
chase. "Besides," said he, " the 'flying shoot' was rather 
too much for me. Hunting, I am sure, "vvill be a more 
dangerous pursuit ; and I hope it will not prove out of the 
frj'ing-pan into the fire." " We cannot part with you," 
replied Jerry, " you have often looked after me in town ; 
and now I will return the favour in the country ; I will be 
near to you ; and no accident will happen, you may depend 
iipon it." Logic ultimately consented ; but leave of ab- 



88 LlFi: IN AND OUT OF LONDON'. 

sence was granted to Sir John Blubber, on account of his 
great weight. The trio started, all in high spirits, to meet 
Mr Rosebud and the members of the hunt, but the hounds 
were soon at a stand-sUU, which the plate so characteristic- 
ally represents : — Jerry enticed by the pretty Gripsy girl 
to have his fortune told. Logic breaking cover. — The 
power of beauty has brought greater men to a standstill 
than the rustic Jerry Hawthorn. The Gipsies had made 
sad havoc amongst the poultry in the vicinity of Hawthorn 
Hall ; and our hero was determined, the first time he came 
across them, to put the whole tribe to the rout, more especi- 
ally as his father had always behaved very kindly to them. 
He had likewise lost a favourite dog, which increased his 
anger against the Gipsies. " Here they are," said Jerry, to 
ToM and Logic, " you go on, my friends, and I will «oon 
be after you." Jerry immediately jumped off his horse, 
almost choked with passion ; which the eldest female per- 
ceiving, and dreading his resentment, she gave a signal to 
two of the gang, who were returning from their depredations, 
to conceal themselves, and also sent forward her beautiful 
daughter to meet our hero, in order to avert his wrath ! 
I^ature had been more than bountiful to the young Gipsy : 
her eyes were sparklers indeed ; her teeth whiter than the 
finest ivory ; and her figure, although disguised in rags, was 
symmetry itself. Jerry was struck with her handsome 
person ; and when she mildly accosted him with — " Sir, you 
seem angry ; let me tell your fortune, and I will answer for 
it you will soon be in a good humour — Come, Sir, cross my 
hand with a bit of silver, and you will not rej)ent it ! " — the 
anger of Jerry was immediately banished — Tom for the 
instant forgotten, the funny Logic out of his thoughts, the 
hounds at a stand-still, and the beauty of the young Gipsy 
succeeded in extracting the " bit of silver " from his pocket 
like enchantment. " The lines in your hand. Sir, tell me 
you are a gi*eat rover — a lover of a pretty girl in a corner," 

said the Gipsy ; " you are going " At this instant. 

Logic thrust his head through the hedge, accompanied 
with "Hallo! my Young Ouc, what sport are you after 
now ? Hark forwards ! Sec, the rjanic is in view I " Jerry 



LIFE IN AM) Ol'l OF LONDON. 89 

was not exactly pleased by the interruption of Logic ; but 
immediately mounted bis horse, to join the hounds. The 
day's sport proved excellent, and all parties were delighted 
with the result, except Logic, who thought himself very 
lucky, in leaping over a five-barred gate, that he had not 
broken his neck ; but, on their return to Hawthorn Hall, 
the Oxonian could scarcely refrain from laughter on enter- 
ing the door, when he beheld his " long acquaintance " in 
conversation with Sir John Blujjber. " The contrast is so 
very ludicrous," said Logic to Jerry, " that it reminds me 
of the Monument versus the dotne of St. Paul's; and you 
will shortly have to boast of the support of the highest and 
biggest friends in England. Sure such a pair was never seen 
— so completely original ! " It appeared that Mr Splinter, 
on his road to Bristol, had merely called in, with a " How 
do you do ? " according to his promise, after the mistakes of 
a night at Bath, upon Tom and Logic ; but he had been 
prevailed upon by the " uncommonly big gentleman " to 
wait the arrival of our heroes from hunting. " Permit me, 
Jerry," said the Oxonian (always inclined to be facetious), 
" to introduce to you the longest acquaintance I have in the 
world ; and I hope that you may long, very long, continue 
to visit each other in friendship." "You may depend upon 
it, Mr Hawthorn," was the reply of Splinter, "that it 
cannot be short upon my part." Mr Timothy Splinter, 
rather strange to remark, was not at all disposed to quarrel 
with the remarks of the Oxonian ; on the contrary, he had 
long been on good terms with his own figure, however, outre 
it might appear to society in general. Whether he looked 
upon himself as an Adonis could not be exactly ascertained, 
but he flattered himself his figure possessed one of the 
strongest recommendations, nay more, the most impor- 
tant feature with mankind — attraction. He could not 
move a step in society without being noticed : he obtained 
notoriety without the least expense ; and he possessed sense 
enough generally to join in the joke against his length of 
person. The most pressing entreaties could not prevail on 
the " long visitor " to pass two or three days at Hawthorn 
Hall : he observed, that the shortness of his time, added 



90 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

to prior engagements, alone prevented him from complying 
with the request of his friends ; " but, previous to his de- 
parture, his invitations to Jerry, Logic, and Tom, were of 
the strongest description, to visit him on their return to the ^. 

Metropolis, at, " Splinter Cottage, in the Regent's Park." -4 

" I exceedingly regret," replied Jerry, " that circumstances, 
over which I have no control, prevent me at the present 
moment from visiting the Metropolis, more especially that I 
cannot join the escort of such a host of friends ; but the 
time will come when your kind offer will not be forgotten." 
" We must also be off in a few days," said the Corinthian, 
" and, the first opportunity that occurs, you may depend 
upon a call from Bob, and your humble servant." " Yes, 
and I hope, Sir," observed the fat Knight, offering his hand 
with great good-nature, " if ever you condescend to visit the 
East end of the town, you will bear in mind, that my snug- 
gery is near * the Tower ' where I will ensure you a most 
hearty welcome at all times ? and if Mint sauce can procure 
the ' good things of this life,' we will have a nxre joUification 
when we all meet together at the snuggery ; and it shall 
go hard with me, if I do not furnish Jerry with some rich 
scenes in our neighbourhood — equal, if not superior, to any 
that he has hitherto witnessed connected with Life in Lon- 
don, in company with our elegant friend, the Corinthian, 
and the never-failing Bob Logic at fun, frolic, and good 
humour." The " long visitor " observed, " I trust it will not 
be a long time before that merry meeting will take place in 
London ; to me, I feel assured, it will prove a great treat." 
He now made his bow, and a few rapid strides soon removed 
him from the presence of our heroes. 

Jerry, supported in the request by his father and mo- 
ther, solicited Tom and Logic to extend their visit for a few 
days longer, but a letter of the most pressing nature from 
the Corinthian's solicitor compelled their departure without 
further delay, to the great regret of Old Jolhjhoy, Mr Rose- 
hud, and the whole of the inmates of Hawthorn Hall. 
The "uncommonly big gentleman," anxious to enjoy the 
amusing company of Tom and Logic on the road, also took 



LIFE rX AND OUT OF LONDON. 91 

his leave of the " Youug One" for London. Logic, on 
bidding farewell to Jerry (popping his merry phiz out of 
the coach window), observed with an emphasis peculiarly 
comical, " Remember my last words : — 

"When again shall we three meet, 
Amongst the Swells in Eegent Street ? 
Come soon, my boy — come with glee, 
For lots of FUX — another Spree ! " 



CHAPTER IV. 

Hawthorn Hall rendered almost a nullity by the depar- 
ture of Tom a)id Logic, The big Subject. The ad- 
vantages of a make-tceight in a party — Sir John 
Blubber to wit. Jerry's soliloquy, occasioned by the 
absence of his friends. Honrs dedicated to love and 
hunting, by the "Young One." Original Song, dedi- 
cated to Mary Rosebud, written by Somebody. A 
change of scene — Jerry visits Bath, and accidentally 
meets with Lady Wanton — another baulk; a sort of 
teasing made easy. The desired event; a slice of luck, 
a sweetener to the greatest grief. Money makes the mare 
to go. No time to be lost. Jerry tmexpectedly starts 
for London, with the consent of all ^;ar^2'es. Mary's 
poetic Advice to Jerry respecting constancy. Logic's 
residence his first object in view — independence of mind 
displayed by the Oxonian. Jerry once more an inmate 
of Corinthian House. The Pupil and his Preceptors — 
difficult climax to arrive at — the right sort of Finish 
towards the completion of Education. The most experi- 
enced Persons at fault. Future operations under discussion 
— a peej) at the map of Babylon. Where shall tee go ? 
Anywhere ? See all you can. 

The sudden departure of such " choice spirits" as Corin- 
thian Tom and Logic, added to the " make weight " quali- 
ties of Sir John Blubber, might have occasioned a sort of 
dulness* in circles of a much higher description in society, 

* Sir John Blubber did not, in the slightest degree, put himself 
up for a wit ; and in truth he was perfectly aware that he hud no 
pretensions to such a character, in the scales of talent ; but, never- 
theless, the "Fat Knight" had no objection to the appellation of a 
jolly, sociable, good-natin-ed fellow in society. Exiuritnce had done 



LIFE IX AND OUT OF LONDON. 93 

distinguished for their brilliancy of wit and talents ; but the 
absence of our heroes, at the retired seat of a country gentle- 
man, must have created a perfect blank amongst the com- 
pany at HA^^■THORN Hall. Yet none felt the departure of 
his friends so much as Jerry ; for two or three days he was 
insufferably dull ; his generally high spirits seemed to have 
entirely forsaken him. 

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, 

And let my liver rather heat with wine, 

Than my heart cool with mortifying groans ; 

Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, 

Sit like his graudsire cut in alabaster ? 

Sleep when he wakes, and ci'eep into the jaundice 

By being peevish ? 

His horses and dogs, the fondness for which had been so 
conspicuously displayed heretofore, had lost their attrac- 
tions, and were completely neglected. " To my Coz Tom," 
said Jerry, mentally, " I feel highly indebted, for his kind- 
ness towards me ; and it is impossible that I can ever let it 
escape my memory how much I am under obligations to 
him for his exertions as a relative, to render me every 
assistance in his power, respecting the attainment of a 
perfect insight into the various classes of mankind ; but for 
my friend, my sincerest of friends. Bob Logic, the mere 
thoughts of his noble qualities operate like a cordial to my 
heart, a reviver to my drooping spirits, and a rallying point 
in the hour of difficidty. Such a character as our immortal 
Bard has so beautifully delineated in Hamlet's address to 
Horatio : — 



more for him than learning ; and ohservation, as a man of the world, 
had improved his taste and m anners in a considerable degree ; in 
consequence of which, a number of lively sentences escaped from his 
lips, which might not have been expected from the "uncommonly big 
gentleman." Sir John was, therefore, no dull appendage to the 
company of the TRIO ; he was anything but a vain man respecting 
his abilities, and possessed the good sense never to attempt anything 
more than he could perform. Logic facetiously termed tho " Fat 
Knight " the " Make-weight " to the party. 



94 I.IFE IN AND OLT OF LONDON. 

Nay, do not think I flatter — 
For what advancement may I hope from thee, 
That no revenue hast, but thy good spirits 
To feed and clothe thee ? 
A man that fortune's buffets and rewards 
Has ta'en with equal thanks ; and blest a,re those 
Whose blood and judgment are so mingled, 
That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger 
To sound what stop she please ! 

" The mind of Logic is disinterested upon all occasions, 
and lie is independent in principle to the very echo ; a 
philosopher at all times ; and his conduct is gentlemanly 
— for nothing narrow or sordid ever had a resting place in 
his composition. Grenerous without ostentation, although 
contending against the disadvantages of a broken fortune ; 
he is incessantly witty, and anxious, yet never tiring, to 
create fun and laughter, in order to make all those persons 
around him pleasant and happy, reminding me so emphatic- 
ally of Moore's delightful song, of ' Fbj not yet, 'tis just the 
hour,' that I am sorry, very soriy, that I could not accom- 
pany such superior fellows to London : for, in my humble 
opinion, Tom and Logic do honour to the human race. But 
Old Dad forbids the journey at present ; kind Mam says, in 
the most affectionate manner, 'I think, Jerry, you have 
had quite enough of that gay place : perhaps, rather too 
much of it, my dear boy ; therefore, endeavour to be con- 
tented with your own home.' And the speaking eyes of 
the dear interesting Miss Rosebud seem to say, I flatter 
myself, although her tongue delicately forbids to make the 
request, that my company cannot be dispensed with at Rose- 
bud Cottage." 

The merry company, now and then, of Old Jollyboy ; 
the days devoted to hunting, and other manly sports with 
his intended father-in-law ; and the happy, harmonious 
evenings passed in the company of his "dear Mary," very 
soon tended to render our hero once more a pleasant and 
agreeable companion to the whole of his friends and ac- 
quaintances in the vicinity of Hawthorn Hall. During 
one of the above evenings, dedicated to love, friendship, hap- 



I-IFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 95 

piness, and all the other et cetrras attendant on the hours of 
courtship, Jerry informed JMiss Rosebud of the admiration 
his cousin the Corinthian had expressed to him of the 
choice he had made in selecting a lady like herself, so well 
calculated in every point of view to make the life of her 
partner completely happy. "But I do not like, dear 
Mary," said Jerry, " to appear before you in borrowed 
plumes, being too well aware of your ingenuousness of dis- 
position ; therefore, I positively refused to pass the following 
verses off upon the world as my own composition, although 
it was in the first instance intended by my Coz. that I should 
have the credit of being the author of them. Such bein 
the fact, permit me, at the solicitation of Corinthian Tom 
to present them to you for your acceptance ; and to inform 
you that he intends to have them set to music, on his return 
to the Metropolis, by one of the most celebrated composers 
of the day. 

THE TEST OF LOVE ; 

OE, THE 

TEUE LOVEE'S GUIDE TO HAPPINESS. 

'Tis not from the eye, nor the beautiful cheek, 

That the mind of the maid you discover ; 
'Tis not from the CHAIN, nor the bauble so fine. 

You can hope to fix the true lover : 
'Tis not from the dress, so rich and so gay. 

That can make you attractive, dear creatures, 
Nor yet learning and wit, though both in full play. 
With, fine hair, and most lovely features. 
No, no, 'tis the heart. 
Which so much does impart. 
That fixes the real true lover. 

Those precepts I offer, let them be your guide, 

As you travel through life light and airy ; 
May virtue and truth be your boast and your pride. 

Then you'll have nothing to fear, dearest Mary. 
But be constant and kind — from thee I'll ne'er part. 

Nor with gross flattery strive to ensnare ye ; 
Believe me, my love, that I speak from my heart — 
No, I ne'er could prove false to thee, Maey. 
Yes, yes, 'tis the heart, 
Wbich. so much does impart, 
That fixes the real true lover. 



9G LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

To fulfil a promise made by Jerry, on his return from 
London, to one of tlie oldest acquaintances of his father 
living at Bath, the opportunity now offered itself, and he 
accordingly proceeded thither, and took up his residence for 
a few days in the above elegant city. Bath had always been 
a decided favourite with our hero, and he visited the old 
Abbey Church with the most profound respect ; the Royal 
Crescent and Circus with increased pleasure ; and the 
Theatre, Pump-room, &c., &c., met from him the cordiality 
and reverence of an old friend. The season had commenced ; 
the company and arrivals daily were numerous, and the 
whole city had the appearance of gaiety and fashion. In 
promenading one morning up and down the Pump-room, 
which was exceedingly thronged with persons of fashion, 
the attention of our hero was attracted by one of the most 
lovely figures of a woman he had ever beheld ; but, on 
catching a hasty glimpse of her face, she appeared rather 
confused, and a blush overspread her features as their eyes 
met together. She was in company with an elderly gentle- 
man, and another elegantly dressed female. His recollection 
would not serve him as to her name, her place of abode, or 
the place he had seen her before ; yet he felt confident the 
lady in question was not altogether unknown to him. Jerry 
was quite at a loss how to frame his conduct upon the pre- 
sent occasion ; he was most anxious not to appear rude in 
the company of a lady ; yet he was very desirous of address- 
ing her before she quitted the Pump-room. Upon approach- 
ing rather nearer towards her person, and obtaining a better 
view of her face, it flashed across his memory in an instant, 
that it was Lady "Wanton, who had played such tricks with 
him at the masquerade at the Italian Opera House, and who 
had also distanced him at Almack's. He was now more 
anxious than ever to speak to her, if it was only in a whisper, 
that he might reproach her ladyship for not keeping her 
appointment with him. But it was totally impossible at 
that moment — the elderly gentleman was her husband, and 
the lady her sister. Our hero had also the mortification 
to see Lady Wanton quit the Pump-room, without being 
able to exchange one single word with her on the sub- 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 97 

ject; but, nevertheless, he was well satisfied, when their 
eyes met together, that she had recognised his person. 
Jerry left the Pump-room quite out of temper with his 
disappointment. 

Lady Wanton was a most outrageous flirt; and "no- 
thing gave her greater pleasure," according to her own 
assertion, " than teasing the fellows into a belief that they 
had obtained a conquest ; also filling them up with the 
highest expectations ; making numerous appointments ; 
and then, by way of punishment for their presumption, 
laughing in her sleeve at their credulity and vanity, by 
disappointing the whole of them." Such conduct, however, 
did not entirely escape censure by her ladyshij)'s acquaint- 
ances. 

Jerry had given up all pursuit of Lady Wanton, and 
was on the eve of quitting Bath, when, in the Circus, he 
accidentally pounced, as it were, upon her ladyship, attended 
by her footman. Such an opportunity might never occur 
again, and he was determined to turn it to account, if pos- 
sible. Jerry, therefore, mustered up courage upon the 
occasion — made a most polite bow — and informed her lady- 
ship by what means he had the honour of becoming ac- 
quainted with her name and person : related the adventure 
at the masquerade; expounded her riddle — stated his for- 
bearance — and her promise to meet him. " Inexperienced 
yoxmg man," said Lady Wanton, " I will not be harsh to- 
wards you, although I really ought to be so ; indeed, I am 
quite astonished that you should attempt to make anything 
serious that occurs at a masquerade ; which is nothing else 
but a series of deception altogether, carried on by the aid of 
masks. I must confess," said she, with a most satirical, yet 
fascinating smile, " I have a faint recollection of the subject 
you allude to ; but you are not half a sportsman not to mark 
your bird down better. You ought not to have lost the 
scent." "But your ladyship " replied Jerry. "I can- 
not hear another word. I shall be keeping the party I am 
going to dine with waiting for me," answered Lady Wanton. 

H 



98 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

" Only promise me," cried our hero, " to " " I am not at 

a MASQUERADE now," Said her ladyshij), j)utting on a frown ; 
" and if you do not instantly leave me, I shall be under the 
necessity of calling the servant to my assistance." Our hero, 
quite chagrined, made a bow, and retired ; while her lady- 
ship walked on with the most perfect ease and indifference, 
to spend the evening. To have met with such an unex- 
pected repulse from the lively, gay, careless Lady Wanton, 
he thought impossible : that a woman of the ton — a mas- 
querader — and a female fond of flattery — should so suddenly 
turn round upon him, assume the manners of a prude, and 
bid him to " begone ! " No electric shock, however violent, 
or sudden clap of thunder, could have operated more sensi- 
tively on the feelings of the inexperienced " Young One." 
His gallantry, which had been at fever heat previous to this 
cruel rebuff, was, by the imperative tone and frown of her 
ladyship, reduced in an instant below the freezing j)oint. To 
himself he felt conscious that his situation appeared co«^(?;w;j- 
tible — he stood motionless for a few seconds, quite at a loss 
whether he should advance or retreat ; but he could not rally 
his wounded spirits ; and, on recovering from his trance, he 
quitted Bath in disgust. He returned to Hawthorn Hall 
rather out of temper with the strange turn of his adventure ; 
but, nevertheless, if properly appreciated by Jerry, it might 
have afforded him a good lesson not to be too confident in 
future respecting the smiles and favours of the fair sex. " I 
would not for £100," said Jerry, " that Tom and Logic 
should have witnessed the treatment I experienced from 
Lady Wanton : it would have furnished them jokes for a 
twelvemonth to come." A day's hunting, a visit to Rosebud 
Cottage, and the interesting manners and conversation of his 
dear Mary, immediately restored his mind to a state of con- 
valescence ; and the flirt, Lady Wanton, was, by our hero, 
entirely forgotten. 

Month after month had rolled pleasantly over, and Jerry 
had become rather more satisfied with the pleasures of a 
country life than on his return to Hawthorn Hall ; but a 
circumstance occurred which gave a turn to his affairs — in 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 99 

fact, was the means of forming another era in his life. A 
letter had arrived from his father's lawj'er, requesting his 
immediate attendance in London, couched after the usual 
sort of advertisement, "that he might hear of something 
very much to his advantage." An accession of property- 
removed all doubts and fears upon the subject by his 
parents ; and his journey to London was admitted by the 
whole of his friends to be expedient, except by Mary Rose- 
bud. The news was most unwelcome to our heroine : she 
saw dangers in the journey, which none of his partizans 
had the slightest perception of ; the danger to her peace of 
mind to be apprehended from new faces — the gaiety and 
splendour of the Metropolis — the elegance of the females — 
and, altogether, the unsteady principles of his London 
acquaintance. Upon Jerry's presenting himself at Rose- 
bud Cottage to his dear Mary, she was too sincere to dis- 
guise her feelings upon the de]3arture of her lover. " My 
dear girl," said our hero, " business of importance calls me 
to London — it will only be for a short time, when I shall 
return to you a much richer man; which to me gives 
pleasure, only under the idea that it will secure our prospects 
and happiness through life." Like a pair of true lovers, 
who have ■ a great deal to say to each other, yet nothing to 
impart, the evening was very dull ; but, previous to the 
"parting kiss," Mary sang the following plaintive air to 
our hero, intended as a gentle hint towards his future con- 
duct, during his stay in London : — 

Farewell ! my dear Jerry, since you will away, 

And leave your poor Mary to mourn, 
Nor let those fine lasses in London, so gay, 

Tempt you never again to return : 
Although they are lovely by nature and art. 

And their spirits as light as a fairy, 
You'll not find so true, nor so faithful a heart, 

As glows in the breast of your MLuiY, your Mary, your Mary, 
As glows in the breast of your Mary. 

Oh I think of the vows of afi'ection you've made. 

When you promised you'd ever be true ; 
Then let not your Eosebud by love be betray'd, 

Or blighted, and faded by you ! 



100 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

Farewell, my dear Jerry, while you are away. 

Your absence to me will be dreary ; 
Oh ! do not in scenes of pleasure so gay. 

Forget your affection to Mary, to Mary, to Mary, 
Forget your affection to Mary. 

To London, dear London, was now the word, and the first 
object in view, as the annexed plate so interestingly portrays: 
Logic's upper story — hut no premises ! Jerry's return to 
the Metropolis : the " Young One " on the qui vire after his 
old pal, Bob. 

'Twas silence all around, and clear the coast, 
The watch, as usual, dozing on his post. 

Some property, left by a maiden aunt to our hero, which 
had been " /umbered" for a long time, had recently been 
unlocked in the Court of Chancery : and on hearing of 
this " slice of luck," he was off like a shot to pocket the 
" dragons ! " and as fast as four prime tits, changed every 
ten miles, could get him over the ground. In a few fleeting 
hours, Jerry once more found himself in the heart of the 
metropolis : — 

" Ah, here's the scene of frequent mirth I " he said, 
" With gay Bob Logic, and his Fancy spread ! " 

" I must give Bob the ' view hallo ! ' before I go to the dah, 
or he will think me unkind. "Well, here goes, then — but 
stop — his direction: \_2mlUng it out of his pockef] 'Bob 
Logic, Queer Street, Ragged Corner, near the good Ould 
One ! ' What^^a prime fellow ! Always an original ! Here, 
Post-boy ! communicate some information to the inhabitants 
of that house, that the prads are on the fret.'' The boy 
was not idle with his fingers, and, in a short time afterwards, 
an old lady, poking her head out of the window in a great 
fright, exclaimed, " Lord bless us, I hope it's not a fire ! " 
" No," said the boy to himself, " but you have got a precious 
Spark about your house ! " '* Don't be frightened," said 
Jerry, laughing, "my good old bit oi fustian. I only want 
to see one of your inmates — Bob Logic ! " " We have 
nothing of that sort in my dwelling," the old lady replied, 
'' so pray go about your business ! I have no doubt but you 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 101 

are one of those imperent sort of fellows that go about dis- 
turbing people in their beds of a night." " You mistake me, 
my dear Madam," said Jerry, in a subdued tone ; "I want 
Mr Logic." "I don't know any such person," answered 
the female. " I have a funny sort of a gentleman lodges 
with me ; he has always an umbrella in his hand, and wears 
^Tff;? spectacles." "That's the ticket! Fh^ Mother," said 
our hero. " I can't /7y, Sir ! " urged the old dame. " Well, 
then, put him aicake, and get Bob down! Make haste, and 
tell Mr Logic, that his friend Jerry is waiting in the street 
for him." The loud knocking at the door had scarcely 
spoiled the old Scout's nap, when the well-known sound 
of JERRY saluted his ears — " By all the Saints in the 
Calendar," exclaimed Teddy Roe, " we shall soon have 
Tom and Jerry going to GO again ! But, young Master — 

" I heard you was ill, and they told us you died." 

" 'Twas all a Jwax," said Jerry, " whoever told you — lied 

Bead ! that's a good one ! Bob, I'll lay a bet, 

We're worth a dozen dead Corinthians yet : — 

We did not die, nor never mean to die ! 

At all events we'll have another SHT I " 

The door was now opened ; the hands of Bob and Jerry 
shaken together in friendship ; and the " Young One " wel- 
comed heartily back to town. " Don't you see," said Bob, 
with a smile on his face, " that I am all right ; our house is 
propped by 'my uncle;' and whether by Silver or Golden 
Balls, I'll bet the New Receiver of Scrives against the 
Editor's Box of a Monkery Chaunt, it is two to one in my 
favour as to raising the Supplies. I am also under the care 
of an old guardian, a liberal sort of Chap, who, besides his 
personal regard for me, extends his vigilance for the benefit 
of the Parish ; a whisky shop in the view, as an antidote 
against the Blues ; and the Old Saint, the preserver of so 
many enlightened Souls from oblivion, as a climax. Come, 
Jerry, you must pilloic your peepers for the remainder of 
the darkey ; and, the first thing to-morrow morning, we'll 
give Tom a benefit, and settle our future plans of operation." 

"Agreed," replied the Young One, " a few winks will put 



102 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

me all to rights." Jerry instantly dismissed the post-chaise ; 
turned in to Logic's iq)per story ; and, by the frankness and 
hospitality displayed by the Oxonian, he could not have 
been made more comfortable at the first inn in the Metro- 
polis. 

On meeting Logic at the breakfast table, Jerry was 
quite pleased -srith the neatness of the apartment ; and the 
attention paid to him by the Oxonian and the old hostess. 
" Jerry," said he, " you may perceive that I have been 
compelled to cut the Albany-; or the Albany would very 
soon have cut me up altogether ; but, by such cutting, I have 
been enabled to preserve my independence of character, 
which is dearer to me than life. However, my income, 
nevertheless, though not large, is comfortable ; and by 
reducing my establishment, nay, putting it on the shelf, I 
am not ashamed to meet my old friends as usual. In fact, 
I am deprived of little else but show. The outside appear- 
ance, it is true, is gone — and what in this metropolis chiefly 
attracts friendship, say, rather, respect : at which circum- 
stance I do not repine. I am happy in my mind ; my dis- 
position, I flatter myself, is a contented one. But, a truce to 
troubles. It may be years, months, only a few days, perhaps, 
which may once more set me afloat again in the world : at 
the death of a near relative, a very aged individual, I shall 
be a richer man, and, I also hope, a better one than ever. 
But I had almost forgotten to inform jom, that the generosity 
and feeling of Tom towards me, will never be obliterated 
from my memory. On quitting the Fleet, the Corinthian, 
in the most delicate manner, jet with a liberality of disposi- 
tion worthy of himself, offered me not only money, but 
apartments in his mansion, until I should be able to retrieve 
my affairs. I felt, at the time, more than I could express ; 
but refused his kind offer with a grateful heart. I preferred 
following my own plans, and I am happy, my Young One," 
giving Jerry a hearty shake of the hand, "to assert that 
I have succeeded in overcoming my difficulties, beyond my 
most sanguine expectations; therefore, you shall still find 
Bob has not 'dropped down upon his tnvV but is a gay, 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 103 

happy, independent fellow, and as great a lover and pro- 
moter of life and fun as heretofore ; so let us be off without 
delay to Corinthian House, that the trio may be altogether 
again on the qui vive." 

Jerry was delighted at the warm reception he met with 
from his cousin Tom, at Corinthian House ; and the 
first leisure moments which offered themselves, he eagerly 
visited the Picture Gallery, the Sketch E-oom, Saloon, the 
Drawing-room, Library, Portfolio of Caricatures, the Con- 
versation-room, otherwise the Chaffing Crib; and he soon 
discovered that the whole of these splendid apartments had 
undergone considerable improvement during his absence 
from London. 



The " Young One " was once more under the roof of his 
splendid relative, ready for another start, with his two ex- 
perienced preceptors at his elbow. " The wisest ones are 
at fault," said the Corinthian, "respecting the finispi of 
education ; public schools have been rejected by several 
men of great learning and talent ; and ' private tuition at 
home ' has equally been condemned by our wisest senators ; 
even the instruction of the great Chesterfield, upon a 
subject of so much importance to youth, failed to produce 
the desired effect. Then, Bob, you and I cannot take upon 
ourselves the characters of arbitrators or judges." "We 
must leave the question, I believe, as we found it," replied 
the Oxonian, putting on a sort of serio-comic phiz; " I per- 
fectly coincide with the poet, ' that the proper study of man- 
kind is man ; ' the great book of life, against all the other 
books I ever perused, for me ; and to ' see all you can,' my 
motto upon every occasion. I must admit to be on the 
right side is truly difficult : but if you cling to the good ; 
shun the wicked ; and avoid the deceitful ; but, above all, do 
not flatter yourself that you are wiser than your neighbours 
— and endeavour to obtain the summuni honum, perhaps, my 
Young One, you will then not be a great way off the right 
path : — 



104 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

Some to the wars, to try their fortunes there ; 

Some to discover islands far away ; 

Some to the studious universities — 

For any, or for all these exercises. 

He cannot be a perfect man, 

Not being tried, and tutor'd in the world. 

Experience is industry achieved, 

And perfected by the swift course of time. 

Be that as it may," resumed Logic, " we will laj' our heads 
together, and look over the Map of Babylon, and select the 
places best suited to our purpose, Life in London. 
Numerous places will present themselves to Jerry, which 
have not claimed his previous attention." " Under the 
guidance of such capital friends," replied the Young One, 
" I cannot fail to learn something to my advantage ; there- 
fore, the sooner we are off for some new sport, the better I 
shall like it." 






CHAPTER V. 

Jerry and Logic visit the " Great Bore ; " serious danger 
of the excursion. Strong symj^toms of ivater on the Brain, 
and Logic's Spread of no use in the Floating Capital. 
The adventures of our heroes at Bartholomew Fair — 
the Ghost, flesh and blood ! Tom, Jerry, and Logic 
assisting at the ceremony of the " uncommonly big gentle- 
man " being made a Buffalo. 

" Now for the ' Great Bore,' " said Logic, smiling, to Jerry, 
"it is a most wonderful attempt, and I am confident you 
will be delighted with the Tunnel ; but I am sorry the 
Corinthian cannot be of the party ; however, Sir John 
Blubber will prove a good ' make-weight ' in the boat, 
should the wind prove troublesome. So let us be off." 
"Any place you recommend. Bob," answered Jerry, "I 
am sure, will not only prove interesting to me, but highly 
gratifying to my feelings." The " Young One" was delighted 
with his excursion down the river ; but he and his pals had 
nearly paid very dear for their temerity, as the annexed 
plate represents : — 

Too much of water hast thou, Ophelia ! 

were the first words Logic uttered on getting his ten toes on 
terra fir ma. " I say, my Young One, this great bore had 
very nearly proved a final bore to us on our voyage of dis- 
covery ; but a * miss is as good as a mile.' " " Yes," replied 
Jerry, " we might have paid dearly for our peeping, and 
curiosity has its dangers. It was all \ip with your Spread 
— the Ark of Noah would have been a much better compan- 
ion to have secured you from trouble." " Did you mind Sir 
John Blubber," observed the Oxonian, " roaring out for 
help ! who had previously boasted to me of his great abihties 
as a swimmer ; but he preferred the use of his heels to dis- 



106 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

playing any of his tactics. Sir John had a lucky escape ; 
but I did not much api^rove of his attachment to my toggery ; 
his repeated tugging^ had nearly floored me ! It was similar 
to St. Paul's smashing the Monument : and the puffing and 
blowing of my fat friend, in any other situation, would have 
proved truly laughable ; to hear him sing out at every step, 
* Stop, my dear Bob ! if I once go doicn, it is sure to be all 
up with me ! ' ' Su-im,' was the reply I made, * and you are 
all right ! ' ' For heaven's sake do not joke, Bob ! ' urged 
Sir John Blubber ; ' I can only swim on shore ! I can't 
move a hand or a foot in the wafer ; indeed, I can't ; and if 
you possess any of the milk of human kindness about your 
heart, only lend me your arm ! or else I shall be lost ! I 
shall become food for the fishes ! dear ! take compassion, 
Mr Logic, and don't let your faithful friend experience a 
watery grave ! Call for a boat ! a skiff ! a barge ! a seventy- 
four ! or anything you like ! The fare is no object — what's 
money to life ? Let me but reach the land ! What a 
dangerous plight I am in ! I have had too much of explor- 
ing!^'^ "I am extremely sorry," observed Jerky, "we 
were prevented from examining this stupendous piece of 
workmanshij), and I regret the attempt should have met with 
any interruption. It is really a noble undertaking ; and, in 
my humble opinion, calculated to be of great service to the 
country, and also prove a monument of the spirit, industry, 
and enterprise of Englishmen. I think its completion is 
practicable ; and I hope the workmen will not stand still for 
the tools r 

A wet jacket, a damp pair of shoes, and some little diffi- 
culty and fatigue, were all viewed as trifles by our heroes, 
and were not at all calculated to deter them in their pursuits 
of obtaining information, " seeing Life," and rendering 
themselves perfectly acquainted with the various classes of 
society. " We are all safe," said Logic, " and it might have 
been worse." A comfortable fireside, a glass or two of strong 
grog, and some refreshment, very soon put the party all to 
rights, and they were again ready to start for any species of 
amusement which might offer to their notice. Upon meet- 



LTFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 107 

ing together the next day, at Tom's residence, the Oxonian 
observed, " that during Jerry's former residence in the 
Metropolis, he had not then the opportunity of witnessing 
one of the most busy and comic features connected with 
Life in London ; he therefore should propose to the ' Young 
One' not to give the chance away at the present period." 
This was agreed to by the whole party, and the talents of 
the artist are seen to great advantage in the plate, which 
represents Tom, Jerry, Logic, and the ^'uncommonly hig 
gentleman," among the "Show Folks" at Bartholomew 
Fair : — 

One man in his time plays many parts. 

" Let us take a turn," said Logic, " to that ancient 
relic of rows, fun, frolic, adventures, lark, and jDatter — 
Bartholomew Fair. Often as I have mixed with the 
motley group, yet something new is always to be met 
with ; and, if I am in town at the time it occurs, I never 
miss taking a peep at the wild heastesses, and the merry 
sons and daughters of Nature — the ' SJioio Folks ! ' My old 
friend, Muster Richardson, so indefatigable in producing 
theatrical novelty for his high and loio customers — I never 
omit paying him a visit." "Then let us be off," replied 
Jerry : "I am quite impatient to join the lively throng : of 
course, Sir John, you will make one of the party ? " " Not 
so fast," cried Logic, making up one of his comical mugs, 
"it may prove dangerous to the 'uncommonly big gentle- 
man.' Some of the lads on the qui vive will put it about, 
he is the Giant bolted from his keepers, and out for an 
airing ! At all events, he will prove the greatest character 
in the Fair ; and, as I am short of the blunt, I do not know 
of a better sjiec., and which we can all be in. I will show 
up my friend as the greatest porpoise ever seen in England, 
alire and leaping ! " " Go it ! " replied Sir John, with the 
utmost good-nature : "I will risk it ; and_ between us both, 
I think something might be done to pick up a few pence. 
If you do not keep a good look-out, I will bet a trifle, if 
you are seen at large in the Fair, you will be caged by 



108 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

some of Wombwell's men, as a mischievous monhey escaped 
from one of their caravans, disguised in green spectacles." 
" It is really worthy of observation, my dear Jerry," said 
Tom, " to those who are fond of character ; it might be 
termed the Metropolitan Carnival, for people of the first 
consequence in life may be seen ' on the sly,' as it were, 
enjoying t^ie fun ; but, in the crowd, rank soon loses its 
importance, and those fellows who are fond of ' pushing 
along, and keep moving,' are the best acquainted with the 
humours of Bartholomew Fair. Your country wakes, 
single- stick bouts, and other rustic amusements, are nothing 
in comparison with the great variety of subjects which this 
ancient Fair produces to thousands of persons, nay, tens of 
thousands, who annually join in the row to keep the game 
alive." 

Our heroes were not long before they found themselves 
in the midst of the fair ; and Tom, Jerry, and Logic, made 
their way like nothing else but " good ones ; " but not ex- 
actly so with the " uncommonly big gentietnan," who now 
almost began to repent of his temerity, from the numerous 
pushings, jostlings, bumps, and thimips his fat carcase ex- 
perienced in rude contact with coalheavers, dustmen, brewers' 
servants, costard mongers, and chajjs of the roughest descrip- 
tion, who were continually laughing at and jeering Sir John, 
by singing out, " Make way for the ' big one ! ' The Griant 
wants to get to his booth ! The audience are waiting for 
him ! " It was, however, too late to complain ; and the fat 
Knight bore the remarks and his violent perspirations with 
the greatest good temper, although his situation was ex- 
tremely unpleasant, by one of the conveyancers having nib- 
bled his wipe. " Never mind," said Logic, with a smile ; 
" it is only a little loss of blubber, and, to prevent the whole 
of it running away, I will make it all right as to the sneezer. 
I have two in my die ; and, when we are out of the mob, 
one shall be at your service." 

Everything worthy of observation was pointed out to 
the " Young One " by his most experienced tutors ; but the 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON, 109 

" gift of the gab,^' exercised with so much gUhoHity by the 
" 8how folks " to ^j«<// in their customers, afPorded consider- 
able amusement to Jerry : — " Valk in ! valk in ! my noble 
mistresses and masters ! attend to my call to view the 
strangest hanimal from the strangest part of the globe in 
the whole world ! The place he came from is so strange that 
nobody can name it : he is also so strange that nobody can 
describe him ; in fact, nobody knows anything about this 
great stranger. He is, indeed, a strange one, my masters ! 
He looks strange — and, strange to say, he never had an ac- 
quaintance in his life. Strangers ! Strangers! Strangers ! 
don't let this strange opportunity pass, but come up, come 
up ! I say, come up ! and when you go down, down, down, 
if you don't like him, and you say I hav'n't wery properly 
described this here strange hanimal, the strangest thing of 
all shall happen to you, — I will return your money, — think 
of that, my strangers !" "Now," said Logic, "as we have 
come on purpose to see all the strange places in the fair 
previous to the tie-up or the finish of the row, I will take 
you to the ' scent-shojjs ! ' " " This is, indeed, a most 
delicious scene," said Jerry, upon entering the sheep- 
pens, holding up his handkerchief to his nose, and laughing 
immoderately at the wretched and beggarly group of persons 
collected round several nasty, dirty old women and men fry- 
ing sausages, crying out, " All hot ! all hot! pick and choose, 
at afarden a-piece." The table-cloth, knives, and forks, were 
all of a corresponding description — but the sauce of hunger 
leaves all other considerations out of the subject ; and sweeps, 
cads, and costard-mongers were seen devouring the sausages 
with as much gout as if they had been the greatest luxuries 
in the whole art of cookery. "Enough!" said Jerry; 
" rather too much for me, and the sooner we lose this scent, 
the better I shall like it." 

Richardson's Theatre, as the climax to Bartholomew 
Fair, was entered by our heroes, who were more inclined to 
praise the liberality and industry of Muster Richardson, 
and the exertions of the performers, than fastidiously to 
criticise and laugh at the pieces produced under so many 



110 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

disadvantages for their amusement. ' ' The scenery is really 
capital," said Tom. " Yes," replied Logic ; " it was painted 
by the first artists belonging to Drury Lane and Covent 
Garden Theatres ; and his dresses, in many instances, are 
very superior, in point of real value and splendour, to the 
wardrobes of the Patent Theatres. Muster Richardson 
si^ares no expense." "A (r/^o.si'," said Tom, "seems to be 
a leading, if not an attractive feature here ? " " Yes," 
answered Bob, " effect is everything. But I recollect being 
here one night, a few years since, when a wag called out, 
' The Ghost is drunk ! ' This attack frightened the poor 
Ghost, who, to the astonishment and terror of the principal 
part of the audience, in a sepulchral tone of voice, sung out, 
' it was an unmanly libel on her fair fame ; as she had been 
Muster Richabdson's Ghost for many years and had never 
touched anything during her (jhost-\\ke performances ! ' A 
gentleman present, inclined to take her part, also declared 
it was very illiberal to attack any Ghost, much more a female 
one, and the allegation was untrue ; but, nevertheless de- 
clared, upon his honour, the performance of the lady was 
the most spirited Ghost he had ever witnessed." The con- 
cluding scene was a complete picture — the situations of the 
actors were excellent, and in good taste. The Corinthian 
was liberal with his applause ; and the " uncouimonli/ big 
gentlenian " jocularly remarked, he felt very warmJt/ on the 
subject. The terror of the Ghost, or some other circum- 
stance, occasioned a handsome young female to fall lifeless 
into the arms of Jerry ; and some time elapsed before 
Logic, with the application of a strong restorative, was 
enabled to produce re-animation in the lovely charge of 
the "Young One." "What are you arter ? " said the fat 
Knight, on viewing Jerry stealing a chaste salute, as a 
token of his kindness towai-ds the young female in distress. 
" Never mind," replied Bob ; " it is all fair at Fair time, 
and a fair-ex subject I never saw for Jerry, and a better 
opportunity could not present itself for the ' Yoimg One ' 
to behave like a man." On recovering from her fainting 
fit, Jerry discovered his fair chai-ge to be a personage far 
more interesting in look and manners than he possibly 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. Ill 

could have anticipated. She returned thanks to our hero 
for his politeness and attention to a perfect stranger, who 
had unfortunately been separated from her party by the 
violence of the crowd, in so pleasing a manner, and in a 
tone of voice so penetrating, that Jerry was determined to 
extend his politeness a little further, and offered his services 
in the utmost style of gallantry, to conduct her safe home ; 
or, at all events, to place her out of the noise and tumult 
of the Fair. 

The fair slavey (for, in the course of a few minutes' conver- 
sation, he found her situation in life was that of a lady's 
maid, and that her name was Jane Merrythoiujhi) at first 
opposed this mark of attention ; but the ardour with which 
our hero pressed his suit soon overcame her scruples, and 
she consented to take hold of his arm. In truth, Jane was 
not one of those squeamish sort of creatures who deem the 
politeness and attention of gentlemen as unworthy of notice ; 
and having a harmless sjirce with a person whom she had 
never seen before, and, in all probability, might never see 
again, was a mere bagatelle in her ideas of proprietj^ In- 
deed, her situation, as the waiting-woman of a person of 
fashion, rendered her more conversant in all the topics of 
the day than females of better fortune. Jane had access to 
a good library, to fill up her numerous leisure hours ; the 
perusal of a daily newspaper ; and the opinions of her lady, 
ready cut and dried, to repeat when it suited her company. 
She, therefore, entered into conversation with our hero 
without reserve ; accounted for being in the Fair ; stated 
the situation and pedigree of herself ^ the character of her 
mistress, except the name, and the whole of her family were 
run over almost in a breath ; of so communicative a disposi- 
tion was the fair Jane. She had lived in several gay 
families of note at the west end of the town, and was con- 
sidered a most excellent appendage to a lady's toilet. Jane 
could either plague or please her mistress, as it suited her 
disposition. She was a capital artist as to dress ; and no 
waiting-woman in London could set off the charms of her 
lady to better advantage than the fair Jane. She was 



112 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

equally distinguished for delivering a message to a gallant ; 
conveying a hUlet-doux without fear of detection ; under- 
standing a ivink ; and knowing the importance of a nod ; 
and quite " at home " in all the numerous et ceteras which 
characterised the confidante of a woman of high breeding and 
fashion. To " see if the coast was clear " for her mistress, 
no pilot in his Majesty's service kept a better look-out than 
Miss Jane ; and the steps of her master were as familiar to 
her ear as the sound of the bell for dinner. To use a vulgar 
phrase, Jane Merrythought was " cut out " for a ladj^ ; but she 
wanted the tools to complete the character. She possessed a 
most lively disposition ; had been well educated, and was 
also a female of considerable observation. The frequent 
opportunities of being in the company of some of the best- 
bred women in the kingdom, elevated her notions as to 
society in general ; and, being an admirable copyist of good 
manners, she really was an imposing, interesting sort of 
creature. Her ideas of gentility, consequence, and comforts 
of life, were thus expressed : " The butler of the family was 
very well," Jane said, " for a walking-stick ; a companion to 
protect her from insult when walking in the public streets ; 
but if ever she changed her situation in life, her husband, if 
not exactly a gentleman, must be a man of independent 
property." It was too true, that she had been spoiled for 
the partner of a poor man by the kindnesses of her mis- 
tresses : indulged now and then with a box at the Opera ; 
always having servants to wait upon her ; and, upon several 
occasions, having a seat by the side of her ladies in their 
carriages, which had so changed her feelings, that she could 
not consent to the slightest abridgment of such luxuries ; and, 
with a smile upon her countenance, she observed, she would 
prefer, according to an old saying, to " lead apes " in a warm 
place, than descend one step from her situation in life. The 
Milliners well knew how important it was to obtain the 
approbation of Miss Jane Merrythought, and the Dressmakers 
were equally vigilant to avert her dislike or displeasure. 
Her words to the frades/olks who supplied "her lady " with 
articles of wearing apparel, were as much looked after as 
the budget of the minister by the bulls and bears upon the 



LTFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 113 

Stock Exchange ; and her mistresses were as proud of her 
remarks, when dress was the object of discussion, as a gentle- 
man, fond of his horses, is pleased to see his coachman handle 
the reins better than other dragsmen in the drive of fashion. 
For instance, her flattering touches were sure to take : "That 
dress, my lady," said Jane, " displays immense taste, and 
Miss Gros-de-Kaptes has positively exceeded herself in the 
flt ; in my opinion, she is the very best dressmaker in the 
Metropolis : your fine figure is seen to the greatest advan- 
tage ; and your beautiful bust, my dear lady, so finely 
developed, that a sculptor might soKcit your ladyship to per- 
mit him to take a model, as a perfect picture of the human 
frame ! " And, on the contrary, her satire was equally 
cutting : " My dear madam, you must not be seen in such a 
dress in public, for the world ! Oh, it's horrid ! Why, you 
look (but pardon the expression) more like the wife of a 
dealer in raw hides, than the lady of quality ; or rather, 
similar to one of those persons who appear at the ball of a 
small merchant at the east end of London ; where, I admit, 
good clothes may be seen upon the backs of the parties, but 
they are completely thrown, away — put on without the 
slightest idea of style, and intended more, it should seem, for 
a sort of covering to the frame, than disjjlaying a splendid 
article of dress." Jane MerrytJiought was well skilled in all 
the finesse attached to the situation of a lady's maid : and 
she possessed all the " small talk " of the thing in an eminent 
degree. Jane, as the term goes, " could twist all her ladies 
round her finger," so much, according to her own phrase, 
had she got them in her power : she was a complete flirt ; 
also a female of tact ; a pleasing companion, with a most 
prepossessing address. She has often boasted that she could 
send her ladies out to join parties \\ath the utmost spirit and 
good nature, or, by her sarcastic observations, could throw a 
damp over their spirits, which all the gaiety of the scene 
would not be able to dissipate throughout the evening. Such 
was the outline of Miss Jane Merrythought. She was almost 
more than a match for a country gentleman like our hero ; 
in fact, he could not compete with her respecting the fashion- 
able occurrences of the Great World ; and he felt rather 



114 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

afraid of being distanced by ber sallies of wit, and lively 
observations upon tbe surrounding scene of confusion and 
noise. Tbe " Young One," witb aU bis rbetoric, found it a 
most difficult task to obtain tbe name of ber mistress ; and be 
was surprised beyond measure wben be beard ber pronounce 
it to be — Lady Wanton. Our bero felt mucb pleased at tbe 
discovery, but, nevertbeless, be was too sagacious at tbis 
interview to mention anytbing respecting bimself, and kept 
bis secret until it migbt be told at anotber period witb more 
advantage. Jerry, bowever, became now doubly attentive to 
Miss Jane Merrythought — be purcbased for ber acceptance 
several fairings ; conducted ber tbrougb tbose shoics wbicb 
claimed ber observation ; until tbe sound of a band of music, 
in a room appropriated for dancing during tbe fair, induced 
our bero to make a proj)osal to Miss Merrythought, to spend 
an bour or two amongst tbe gay sons and daugbters of Nature, 
on "tbe ligbt fantastic toe." "Tbe sign," said Jerry, "is 
not very inviting, I must admit ; but tbere may be as mucb 
amusement "at tbe ' Cat and Bagpipes,' as at tbe first assembly 
in London." " I bave not tbe sligbtest objection," replied 
Jane, witb a smile on ber face ; " it is only masquerading it 
for a sbort period ; and we bave to put our gentility aside for 
tbe time ; enjoy tbe scene as it presents itself, and not to 
turn up our noses with disgust at tbe company." " It is 
werry genteel," observed tbe Master of tbe Ceremonies to 
Jerry, " and only one sbilling a-bead : I manages it myself, 
and you may believe me, Marni, tbere mil be no roiv ; for 
anybody tbat is obstropolis, tbey are sure to be pulled up for 
it. I bave got a trap* in tbe room, to make it all right, j Jf 
I was to know you, Mann, as well as I knows my own rife, 
you may depend upon it, I should never split. I knows 
better, my lady, that's vat I do ! — I should not be supported 
by any genteel folks, if I was to cha^ out of doors about my 
visitors. Vy, Lord bless j^ou, last Bartlemy Fair, Squire 
's vife had like to have been cotched jigging a bit with 



* In order to render this slavg phrase intelligible, the Master of the 
Ceremonies meant that his \isitors should understand he had pro- 
cui'ed the assistance of a Peace Officer. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 115 

her footman ; but, howsomdever, as soon as I got the office, 
I made it all right — by the female voman bolting out of the 
back slums ; and the slavey made his lucky as veil as he could. 
Therefore, you see as how, my lady, you have nothing to fear 
— as I likes to do the thing that is handsome. But what's 
other people's troubles to me — I have quite enough to do to 
mind my own business. All I looks after is the tip — and to 
prevent bolters. Only take a peep, my lady, into the room, 
before you sports that pretty little foot of yours amongst the 
lively souls in the quod-reeh ; if you don't like it, you know, 
there is no harm done — but I never admits any barber s darks, 
and such like sort of rubbish ; no, no, that caper vouldn't 
do for ParticuJar Jack, which name I am known by, to 
my reg'Iar customers : only the right sort of folks, and 
nothing else, comes here. The city and vest-enA swells all 
patronise my Panny — that is, my Assembly Room : a wrong 
vord, you know, my lady, will slip out, now and then, 
amongst the best of us. Therefore, Marm, you vill find no 
danger in joining the Fantastics /" Jane and Jerry joined 
the motley group, after the above eloquent specimen of 
pafter-iug it, as it is termed at Bartlemy Fair, without 
hesitation ; and kept it up till it suited their pleasure to think 
of " suret home." 

The Oxonian soon discovered that Jerry had bo/ted off 
with the fair Jane, and exclaimed, "He's tipped us the 
double ; Jerry is off like a shot ; and we are at fauit, as 
to the scent !" "Yes," replied the "uncommonly big gen- 
tleman," "and all the ' vieic haUoos ' you can shout will not 
restore him to us to-night." " I admire his politeness and 
attention to the fair one," said the Corinthian, "and I 
pledge myself, he will be able to give a good account of his 
adventure at our next meeting." The party now quitted 
the Fair, for Corinthian House, and the supper and a 
glass or two of wine kept them together imtil past three 
o'clock, up to which period the "Young One" had not put 
in his appearance, Tom ordered the porter to wait up for 
Jerry ; but the stopper was put on the mouth of the porter 
by a sovereign remedv as to silence ; and all the inquiries the 



116 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 



next day, by Logic and Sir John, could not ascertain tlie 
exact time when Jerry arrived at Corinthian Hoise ; and 
the " Young One" was too much the man of honoiu" to bring 
the character of the fair Jane in question. 

The day was devoted to various pursuits, and in the 
evening it was proposed to visit the Theatre ; and, also, 
that Jerry should witness the ceremony of making a 
Buffalo. 

The ceremony of making a Buffalo is very simple, yet 
extremely ludicrous, and productive of great laughter. The 
" imcommonly big gentleman,"* at the request of Logic, had 
consented to become one of the members of this most eccen- 
tric society,* which is composed of numerous Performers, 
and other " comical wights " resident in the Metropolis, for 
the observation of Jerry. 

The Artist has, with considerable spirit and fidelity, repre- 
sented in the plate the initiation of a person intended to 
become a Buffalo. He is seated on a chair in the middle of 
the room, with a bandage placed over his eyes. The initiated 
Buffaloes are waiting outside of the door ; the orator 
being decorated with a wig for the occasion. On a given 
signal, they all enter the room, with what they term the 
Kangaroo Leap, and jump round the chair of the " degraded 
ivretch," (as the victim is termed). 

Come all you young fellows who's a mind for to range 
Unto some foreign country, your station for to change. 
Your station for to change, away from here to go, 
Thro' the wide woods we'll wander to chase the Buffalo. 
Chorus — We'll lay down on the banks of the pleasant shady Wo, 

Thro' the wide woods we'll wander to chase the Buffalo. 



* At the Harp, in Great Eussell Street, opposite Drury Lane Theatre, 
the Buffalo Society was first established, in August, 1822, by an 
eccentric young man of the name of Joseph Lisle, an artist, in con- 
junction with Mr. W. Sinnett, a comedian, to perpetuate, according 
to their ideas u])on the subject, " that hitherto neglected ballad of 
' We'll chase the BUFFALO ! ' " 



LIFE IX AND OUT OF LONDON. 117 

This is succeeded by a solemn march, and the following 
chaunt ; the Buffaloes carrying brooms, shovels, mops, and 
a large kettle by way of a kettle drum — 

Bloody-head and raw-bones ! 
Bloody-head and raw-bones ! 
Be not perplex'd, 
This is the text, 
Bloody-head and raw-bones ! 

The charge is then given to the " victim " by the Primo 
Buffo, accompanied by the most extravagant and ridiculous 
gestures : — 

" Degraded wretch ! — Miserable Ashantee ! — Unfortunate 
individual ! ! ! At least you were so, not a quarter of an 
hour since. You are now entitled to divers privileges ; you 
may masticate, denticate, chumj), grind, swallow, and devour", 
in all turnip fields, meadows, and pastures ; and moreover, 
you have the especial privilege of grazing in Hyde Park : — 
Think of that, my Buffalo ! You may also drink at all the 
lakes, rivers, canals, and ponds ; not forgetting the Fleet and 
lower ditches. You are entitled to partake of all public 
dinners (upon your paying for the same). Such are a few 
of the advantages you will enjoy : but you must promise to 
gore and toss all enemies to Buffaloism ! You must like- 
wise promise to patronise the Horns, at Kennington ; and 
occasionally visit Hornsey "Wood, where you may do what 
you like best — rusticate, cogitate, or illustrate, and prove 
yourself an Hornament by respecting the natives of the island 
of GoRE-HE ! " 

The bandage is then removed from the eyes — and the 
chorus of " Chase the Bufalo "is repeated. The victim is 
then led into the passage, and the signs, &c., are given to 
him ; after which he is ushered into the room with the full 
chorus of 

"See the conquering hero conies," &c. 

He is then called on for the accustomary fees for liquor, and 
a small compliment for the Buffalo in waiting : the expenses 



118 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

are in proportion to the means or inclination of the newly- 
made member. The Kquor is introduced by the chorus 
altered from " The Pirates " — 

" We Buffaloes lead a jolly, jolly life, — Fal de," &c., &c. 

A blessing is then given by the Primo Buffo, reminding the 
new member that the greatest characters in the country have 
solicited to become Buffaloes,* and the following is sung in 
a solemn style : — 

Harpokiajs^s list unto me, 

And Kakgaroos rejoice ! 
And Bltt ALOES lift up your horns, 

Whilst I lift up my voice. 

Oh ! Joseph Lisle a painter is. 

And Buffalo beside ; 
So sit not in the scorner's chair. 

Nor Buffaloes deride. 

Inspire us with bull-like strength, 

With horns protect our heads. 
And Sprinkle with clean straw our stalls. 

Called by the vulgar, beds ! 

Protect us from the Bailiff's fangs, 

Which do us much annoy, 
Lead us in meadows ever green, 

Fat pastures to enjoy I 

Now Buffaloes join in a roar. 

Be heard from pole to pole ; 
My solemn chaunt is at an end. 

Because you've heard the tolioJe ! 



* In order to astonish, as well as to give a temporary importance 
to the society, the new member is told, in the most homhastic style 
that the Duke of Wellington is a Buffalo ! Mr. Kean, Mr. Brougham, 
Mr. Listen, the Lord Chancellor, and the twelve Judges, Mr. Cobbett, 
Old Townsend the tnq), Mr. Peel, &c., are all Buffaloes. 



CHAPTER YI. 



Afi invitation to the Duchess of Do-Good's magnificent Fete : 
a Feep at her Grace's Screen ; a most attractive subject 
to our Heroes. The Duchess's Remarks on the Liberty 
of the Fress. Logic's opinion as to the conduct of the 
Duchess of Do-Good. The contrast — HIGH versus 
LOW Folks ; or, the Advantages of Comparison. 
FTow to FINISH a night, to be up and dressed in 
the Morning. Tom awake! Jerry, caught napping; 
Logic on the go ; and the " uncommonly big gentleman " 
abroad! The plaything of an hour — Saucy Nell, a 
well-known heroine on the Town. Her adventures; and 
the vicissitudes and wretchedness of a " gay life " depicted. 
Nell the subject of a flash So)ig. Rest necessary ; the 
fresh air requisite ; and our heroes in training for a day 
or two at Chatham. A visit to the Dock Yard. Splen- 
did Jem recognised by the Corinthian, double-ironed 
amongst the Convicts : a Sketch of his Life. 

"Jerry," said Tom, " I have received a most pressing invi- 
tation to the Duchess of Do-Good's Fete, with the privilege 
of any friend that I approve of accompanying me ; of course, 
Bob and yourself will be of the party. I am certain it will 
be a tip-top sort of affair ; no lady in the land knows the 
value of effect better than the Duchess ; the scene altogether 
will be a rich one, and well worthy your observation as to the 
movements in High Life." The Corinthian, Jerry, and 
Logic prepared themselves accordingly for the Fete ; and no 
persons were received by her Grace with more marked atten- 
tion and politeness than the gay and lively trio. " I am 
delighted," said the Young One, " at the liberality displayed 
by the Duchess ; no expense, it is clear, has been spared to 



120 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

render the Fete not only magnificent to the eyes, but all the 
' good things ' for the appetite have also been collected 
together, in order to make the visitors comfortable and happy, 
and the repast sumptuous indeed." The Oxonian observed 
to Jerry, that, if possible, they would get a peep at the 
Duchess's SCREEN, before they left the mansion. "I don't 
understand what you mean," replied Jerry, "by her Screen." 
" It is reported," replied the Oxonian, " that her Grace 
has been so much caricatured through her various grades 
of life ; and has also been the subject of so much uncalled- 
for literary abuse ; that, like a sensible, clever woman, she 
has procured copies of all the articles and plates in question, 
and had them put upon a Screen ; and those persons who 
are waiting for an audience are generally shown into the 
room where this nouvelle article is kept, to beguile the 
time of * dancing attendance ' on great folks ! " " See it, 
my dear Bob ! " said Jerry, " I would not miss the sight 
of such an interesting article on any account ; and Tom, I 
know, can manage it for us." The pleasing address of the 
Corinthian soon procured this favour for the " Young 
One ; " and the Duchess, with considerable urbanity, thus 
addressed them : — " This Screen, Mr Corinthian, may be 
considered as a picture of the Age we live in ; or, rather as 
a jK-ep at the Times. To myself, it is a sort of Public 
Ledger ; and it has afforded a vast fund of amusement to 
my visitors : but I must confess to you, that a great variety 
of opinions have been given upon the subject : however, 
Sir, I think it is worthy of your attention as an English- 
man ; and most certainly you will find it a great proof of the 
Liberty of the Press ! It is Kkewise a Chronicle of events ; 
and several persons who have viewed the Screen, have 
compared it to Argus, with his hundred eyes ; while others 
have pronounced it something after the manner of the 
Sphinx. To those characters who are fond of the I^eics of 
the day, or to an Observer of passing circumstances, but 
more especially to a strict Examiner of men and manners, 
an hour may be trifled away, and not unprofitably : it is 
true. Sir, that I do not possess nonchalance enough to be 
insensible to personal attacks, and vile and unfounded 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 121 

calutnny ; but I admire wit and talent ; and I perfectly 
agree with the words of the poet, that — 

' All fame is foreign, but of true desert, 
Plays round the head, but comes not to the heart : 
One self-approving liour, whole YEARS outweighs 
Of stupid STAEEKS, and of loud nuzzAS.' " 

" We all have our foibles," said Logic ; " and the prin- 
cipal charges, I believe, that are made against the Duchess 
of Do-Good, come under the heads of ostentation and am- 
bition. Be it so. However, it cannot be denied that she 
is charitable ; and we have the sanction of holy writ, that 
charity covereth a multitude of sins. At all events, she is 
a female of superior talents ; for, if she had not acted her 
part well, she might have remained in a peculiar line of life 
to the end of the chapter. The Duchess is a kind-hearted 
woman ; and if love had nothing to do with the subject in 
question, her grateful remembrance for her first elevation in 
society rendered her never weary of administering comforts, 
with incessant attention, to an old gentleman ; and she has 
also had it in her power to make a young one rich and 
happy. To fashion her conduct to please everybody would 
be utterly impossible : she is too proud for some folks ; too 
ostentatious for others ; and her numerous donations are 
said not to be given with the sincerity of charity, but done 
only to secure a good name. The Duchess, very properly 
in my opinion, treats all those unmerited attacks upon her 
conduct with the contempt they deserve. She spends her 
money freely ; the public in general is benefited by her 
splendid style of living ; and numerous tradesmen are in- 
debted to the encouragement of her Gkace for their pros- 
perity. Her origin, by some ill-natured persons, is said to 
be somewhat obscure ; but we have instances in the elevation 
of individuals to the Peerage, equally as obscure as the juve- 
nile days of the Duchess.* If it is true that her immense 



* Respecting obscurity in early life, the following anecdote of the 
late Countess of Exeter will not, perhaps, be considered out of place. 
That amiable woman, whose virtues gave lustre to the title of Countess 



122 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

wealth has bought for her a dukedom, she ought not to be 
singled out on that account. The Duchess is not the first 
person that has purchased a title ; yet she may boast that 



of Exeter, and who died lamented by all who knew her, had something 
so uncommonly interesting in the history of her life, that a sketch of 
it cannot but be acceptable to every reader of sensibility : — When the 
Eaii was a minor, he married, at an early age, a lady, from whom he J 
was afterwards divorced. After the separation had taken place, the 
Earl, his uncle, advised him to retire into the country for some time, 
and pass as a private gentleman. Mr. Cecil, accordingly, bent his 
course into a remote part of Shropshire ; and fixing his residence at 
an inn, in a little rural village, he amused himself there for some 
months, passing by the name of Jones. As he had plenty of money, 
and was extremely libei'al to all about him, some persons in the neigh- 
bourhood conceiving a notion that he had not come honestly by his 
riches, grew suspicious of him, and shunned his company. They took 
him for an Indian Nabob ; and, as he passed along, he often heard 
the rustics exclaim, " There (joes the London gentleman." Taking a 
dislike to his situation at the inn, he sought out a farm-house where 
he might board and lodge — several families had refused to take him in, 
because he was " too fine a gentleman, and they could not understand 
how he came by his money." At length he found a situation which 
answered his purpose ; and, in consideration of his liberal offers, and 
the knowledge of his possessing money, a farmer fitted him up a room. 
Here he continued to reside for about two years, going up to London 
twice in the year, and returning with such money as he had occasion 
for ; when he departed, the country people thought he was gone to 
gather his rents ; and became more assured of this, from his always 
returning with plenty of cash. Time hanging heavy on his hands, he 
purchased some land, on which he intended to build a house ; but 
neither stone-mason nor carpenter would undertake the job, for the 
reasons already mentioned. He did not condescend to contradict the 
reports of the villagers ; but offering to pay so much money before- 
hand, the tradesmen, after some grave consultation together, agreed 
to finish his work — this was done accordingly, and eveiy person was 
paid to the full extent of his demands. The farmer, at whose cottage 
his lordship resided, had a daughter about seventeen j'ears of age, 
whose rustic beauties far surpassed all that his lordship had ever be- 
held in the circle of fashion. Although this charming maid was placed 
in this humble lot of life, his lordship conceived that her beauty would 
adorn, and her virtue shed a lustre on, the most elevated situation. 
One day, when the farmer returned from his plough, Mr Cecil frankly 
told him that he liked their daughter, and would mai'ry her, if they 
would give their consent. ^' Marry our daiu/hter ! " exclaimed Mrs 
Farmer; " what, to a fine gentleman? — No, indeed!" "J^es, marry 
her," says the husband; " he shall marry her, an she likes him — has 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 123 

her road to the Peerage has been as pure, if not much purer, 
than many other persons whose descendants have filled such 
exalted situations in the history of their countr3^ Her 
Grace is said to have been very decisive as to measures 
in her household department, previous to her elevation of 
rank : and several servants, who were discharged upon the 
instant, have not been able to revenge themselves by turning 
round upon the Duchess, having nothing to complain of 
respecting her conduct. The busy meddling world have, 
therefore, been disappointed from such an unhealthy source ; 
the tongues of discarded servants, in general, being too 
ready to defame the conduct of their masters and mistresses ; 
but, in this instance, no cause has arisen for them to exer- 
cise their loquacity. Indeed, the Duke has publicly acknow- 
ledged his happiness to be complete ; and her original pur- 
suits in life," continued the Oxonian, "must have given her 
great advantages over most of her sex. Those persons who 
have intercourse with her Grace, pronounce her to be a 
lively and interesting companion ; full of anecdote ; easy 
and happy in her conversation ; and, from her intimate 
relationship with some of the most distinguished families in 
the state, the Duchess has had the means of acquiring an 



not he Jwuse and land, and plenty of money to keep her I " In fine, the 
matter was made up, and Mr Cecil married this charming rustic. 
Masters of every kind were procured, and, in twelve months' time, Mrs 
Cecil became an accomplished woman, to the envy of the country girls 
around, and to the astonishment of the villagers, who now began to 
be reconciled to the supposed too fine gentleman. It was not long 
before the news arrived of his uncle's death, when he found it neces- 
sary to repair to town. He accordingly set out, taking his wife with 
him, and on his journey called at the seats of several noblemen, where, 
to the utter astonishment of his wife, he was welcomed in the most 
friendly manner. At last, they arrived at Bui-leigh, in Northampton- 
shire, the beautiful patrimonial seat of his lordship. Here they were 
welcomed with acclamations of joy. As soon as he had settled his 
affairs, he returned into Shropshire, discovered his rank to his wife's 
father and mother, put them into the house he had built there, and 
settled on them an income of £700 per annum. He afterwards " took 
the Countess with him to London, introduced her to the fashionable 
world, where she was respected, admired, adored, until it pleased the 
great Disposer of events to call the spirit of her to a more lasting 
region of happiness. Her ladyship left two sons and one daughter. 



f 



124 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

excellent knowledge of the Great "World. The Duchess 
has long been well known to the public : she has also been 
well received by the King, and upon terms of intimacy with 
most of the royal family. Therefore, the Duchess does 
not come exactly under the consideration of an TJpdart ! " 
" I perfectly agree with you, Logic," answered Tom ; "I 
think her Grace has been rather too roughly handled by 
the Press ; and I feel quite assured that the pen of Satire 
might have been wielded against persons in the Beau Monde, 
calling forth censure with much greater point and effect 
than the Duchess of Do-Good. If she has been ostenta- 
tious in her acts of charity, I am, nevertheless, sure that a 
great deal of service has been rendered to hundreds of poor 
persons by the very Kberal disbursements from her purse." 
" You know. Bob, the old saying in the country," observed 
Jerry, "that the birds peck at the sweetest fruit." Our 
heroes now took their leave of the Duchess, highly de- 
lighted with the splendid entertainment which she had 
given to her visitors. 

Corinthian House the next day was the scene of 
mirth and gaiety, in consequence of a dinner given by Tom 
to his friends, to meet his cousin Jerry. After the cloth 
had been removed, the " gaily circling glass " went round 
with unusual briskness, until Logic became rather talkative, 
and also full of song : — 

This Life is like a country-dance, 
The world a spacious ball-room : 

In which so many take a prance, 
You'll scarcely find for all room. 

" Let us toddle to the Finish," said the Oxonian, " and 
take an extra cup of coffee, which will not only do us good, 
but the contrast from High to Low Folks will afford a 
subject for the consideration of Jerry : and if he is not 
surrounded by Duchesses, I will bet a trifle, he will run 
against some rum Dukes ! " "I second that motion," ob- 
served the fat Knight, who was rather the worse for the 
copious draughts of Champagne he had tossed off during 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 125 

the evening, to shew his attachment to his King and 
Country. " I should like to be Jinish-ed under so able a 
Commander as the Oxonian. It will prove a great novelty 
to me. So let us be off ! " "I am ready to start when 
you please ! " answered Jerry. " And I cannot refuse to 
accompany you," replied the Corinthian, " on account of 
my Cousin, as I am particularly anxious that the * Young 
One' should see every species of Company which this 
great Metropolis affords to strangers." The party, without 
further loss of time, obtained the object in \^ew. 

This place, originally intended for the refreshment of the 
market people who frequent Covent Garden very early in 
the morning, with their garden stuff, fruit, &c., has assumed 
rather a different character from its primary establishment. 
" It affords refreshments to all parties, now," said Logic to 
Jerry : " and the FINISH is well worthy of observation ; 
it will be found to be a book full of adversity and wicked- 
ness — with several awful and useful lessons for mankind ; 
and it may be perused again and again, with great ad- 
vantage to the visitor." " I perfectly agree with you," 
answered the Corinthian. " Indeed," resimied Bob, 
"you may here recognise the lads and their lasses, on 
their return home from the Masquerades, refreshing 
themselves with a cup of coffee or tea ; and the Swells, 
on the breaking up of a late party, striving to see what is 
going on amongst classes of a lower description in society 
than themselves ; and the unfortunate poverty-stricken 
blowings, without a mag in their pocket, or shoe to their 
feet, and no dwelling to cover their unhappy heads, glad 
to seek shelter anywhere, in hopes to induce some kind- 
hearted fellow to listen to their piteous tale, and relieve 
their miseries : — 



Her Father hung on Tyburn Tree ! 
Her Mother, too, transported she ! 

A tliief — and an impure : 
With shoeless feet, and houseless head, 
For one poor bit of mouldy bread, 
Be£ 



126 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

It is impossible to calculate upon your company — your 
EYE may be at fault at every stare ; and your ears may be 
assailed with flash, or amused with French ; meet with 
the drunken orations of a classic scholar ; or be entertained 
with the dialogue of some noisy costard-monger ; be seated, 
perhaps, with a brilliant of the first water in disguise ; or 
taking tea with a well- togged cotireyancer. The quality of 
the company is not the object in view ; but the quantity 
considered of the greatest importance. The tight and shade 
of this riNISH-/;?<7 picture of Life in London is filled 
up by turns with folks from the country, Players, Poets, 
Artists, Keporters, Officers, Merchants, Gamblers, &c., to 
make the ' icisit pleasant ! ' Sometimes the visitor is at- 
tacked by the most egregious Spooney in the world ; at 
other periods bored almost to death by ignorant fellows 
beyond repeating. You are puzzled with a knowing look 
of the eyes by the really deep Coves, as to matters of no 
moment ; and often teased into a conversation with some 
of the greatest Muffs in life : and compelled, as it were, to 
listen to some poor outcast female's sufferings, calculated 
to make your heart's blood run cold, and make you almost 
ready to clench your fist, to punish the author of her wrongs : 
you see also other girls, possessing such high spirits, that 
neither time, place, circumstance, want, nay, misery to the 
bone, can reduce their gaiety of disposition." The Artist 
has, with considerable spirit, seized hold of the instant when 
Saucy Nell had attracted the attention of the motley 
group by humming a tune, and exhibiting herself on the 
" light fantastic toe," and with an air of self-importance, and 
a toss of her head, saying, " / defy Jew Bella to beat tliat'^ 
SAUCY NELL was an only child, and, at the early period 
of her life, was the pride of a most indulgent and fond 
father ; the delight of her amiable mother ; the admiration 
of her relatives, and the envy of all the girls in the country 
town in which she was born. Her face was beautiful ; her 
form was elegant ; and her manners truly lady-like. The 
parents of Nell were wealthy ; her education was complete ; 
and she was destined by her family, at a proper period, to 
become the wife of a man of fortune. But a noble Lord, 



LIFE IX AND 01 T OF LONDON. 127 

distinguished for his numerous gallantries, whose scat was 
in the neighbourhood of * * * *^ accidentally saw Nell, in 
his perambulations through her native town. At the first 
glance, he became enamoured with her beautiful face, and 
was determined, if possible, by the aid of his purse, and the 
arts and assistance of his panders, to add the lovely Nell 
to his list of victims. The iniqmtous plans of his lordship 
proved too successful ; in a short time, Nell was inveigled 
from the house of her parents — seduced — her ruin com- 
pletely effected, and she lived in London as the acknow- 
ledged mistress of his lordship. This sort of de/iriuin was 
not of long duration ; her handsome person, her splendid 
mode of dress, and her dashing equij)age, attracted the 
notice of a young Duke, who immediately offered Nell a 
carte blanche. This mark of attention flattered her vanity ; 
LOVE for her protector was ovit of the question — he had 
deceived her — ruined the peace of mind of her parents — 
his wife she was never intended for ; and, therefore, Nell, 
as a gay woman, gave the preference to being the chere ami 
of a Duke, than living under the protection of a person of 
less rank in society ; and she left his lordship without a sigh, 
nay, with disgust. The Duke soon became satiated, and 
tired of her extravagance ; and Nell was compelled to de- 
scend to accept the attention of Coni)iioner,s, when she could 
no longer be caressed by the Peerage. For a few years she 
figured in the beau monde, under the protection of various 
keepers. Unfortunately for Nell, her "koh was not screwed 
on the right way " respecting her future welfare ; she had not 
made the most of her friends ; and she left all her fond protec- 
tors without even the shadow of a settlement. Still clinging 
to gaiety, style, and fashion, Nell opened a splendid house 
upon her own account : kept her carriage, fine horses, and 
livery servants. This appearance had the desired effect for 
some months : and she was visited by the old and the 
YOUNG Sice/ls — the rich fat, and the lively simrp — her 
dinners were capital ; her wines, equal to anything the 
Docks could produce ; but her amusements were meretri- 
cious to the echo ; cards were introduced for those who 
might feel ennui as to getting rid of their time ; dice for 



128 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

those liberal fellows who were not afraid to hazard a sove- 
reign ; and her Soirees were enriched by some delightful 
pieces of music — popular songs — and the dance, in which 
Nell took the lead over all her female competitors, not- 
withstanding her parties were enlivened by the visits of 
numerous fine women. In fact, Nell was the reigning 
toast amongst the bon vivants. But, in the midst of all 
these scenes of luxury, a severe fit of illness overtook her ; 
when the splendid establishment of beautiful Nell was at a 
stand-still : dulness appeared throughout the mansion, and 
her gallants, one by one, were absent without leave. Her 
once delightful face became haggard — her hitherto beautiful 
form reduced to a skeleton — her coffers empty ; and the 
sorrowful tear now trickled down her face too late — and for 
the first time in her life, she saw the world in its true 
colours. Unable to help herself, Nell was of no use to 
her party, and her creditors became importunate. Heavy 
rent and taxes forced her out of the house ; her carriage 
and horses were sold for the expenses they had incurred at 
the stables ; her livery servants did not wait for their dis- 
charge ; John Doe and Richard Roe became very much 
attached to her person ; and the Marshal of the King's 
Bench took Nell into strong keeping without the slightest 
murmur ; imtil the benefit of a certain " Act of Grace " re- 
lieved the Marshal from his fair charge ; which enabled this 
volatile unfortunate gay piece of frailty once more to become 
her own mistress, and promenade the whole of London with- 
out control. Thus, step by step, she descended into the paths 
of wickedness. Without friends — destitute of blunt — and 
her swell togs up the sjmut — Nell, like most of the sister- 
hood, was compelled to put the best face she could on her 
misfortunes — collect together some remnants of her former 
finery, and shew herself nightly at the Theatres, to obtain 
support : — 



Nelly was handsome, remarkably fair, 
No girl in the school could with Nelly compare ; 
Accomplish'd in manners, her temper was mild — 
She was to rich parents the only dear child ! 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 120 

But a treacherous Lord, who stole her away, 
As a wolf would a lamb, to make her his prey ; 
"While fate lies a-bleeding the victim to crowu, 
The beautiful Nelly is a girl on the town I 



Every method had been tried by her broken-hearted 
parents to reclaim her, but in vain : she scouted the idea of 
becoming a penitent in the Magdalen ; and as to her returning 
HOME, the task was too dreadful for her mind to undergo : 
she was, therefore, left to her own will, and the result was, 
Salcy Nell became a complete outcast. — Reflection was 
pushed aside by repeated glasses of brandy ; and her hitherto 
lady-like manners, by her associating with all sorts of 
characters, had become distorted, rough, and, at times, when 
Reason lost the helm, of the most violent description. 
Saucy Nell was passionately fond of dancing ; and, upon 
the slightest request made by any person having the look of 
a gentleman, she was always ready to show her talents. Her 
various vicissitudes, during her short career, induced a well- 
known writer to compose a song, called Salcy Nell, from 
which chaunt the following verses are extracted : 



0, ye lovers of Swell blomngs, come listen to my chaunt, 
I'll tell you of a creature, who will make you all gallant, 
With ivorits so pretty, and she sports such lovely eyes, 
That the hlades are all in raptures, yorking at Nell with sighs ! 

For she struts away. 

And is always gay, Fal-de-dal-de-la ! 

In a rattler she rolls along to the famed Saloon, 
Where Saucy Nell's the gaze and pride of all the room. 
The " Gay Pieces " full of envy, and the coves upon the fret, 
And the reversion of her charms produces many a bet. 

They are all for Nell, 

She is such a swell, Fal, &c. 

At the Opera so fine, the Dukes and Lords do stare. 
To view Saucy Nell " come it " with so genteel an air. 
The Duchesses become dummies, and the Countesses do pout, 
To see this " gay j^iece " put them all to the rout. 

For she gets the Swells, 

In spite of the Belles, Fal, «S:c. 

K 



130 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

At Vauxhall she looks the lady, and dances like a queen, 

To " keep it up " her motto, in Life's variegated scene ! 

In quadrilles truly elegant ; but in waltzing Nell's quite great, 

That all the Swells follow her like a minister of state ! 

For she's light and gay, 

And trips away, Fal, &c. 

In keeping quite high, Nell's too proud to bear rebuke, 
And siuells in the Park, to attract a Eoyal Duke ! 
Her barouche and prods so gay, she laughs behind her fan. 
And nods and winks to all the Coves, as she passes ev'ry man, 

For Nell's quite fly, 

And never shy, Fal, &c. 

And when the Spell is over, to Mrs H.'s she'll run, 
To meet the blades and mots, and to have a bit of fun ; 
But, up to ev'ry move. Saucy Nell will not be heat, 
And Jarhs it all the dnrkey till daylight sounds retreat ! 

She's so full of game, 

And laughs at blame, Fal, &c. 

In a row, Nell's a good one, and never known to brush. 
She mills the Charleys'' nobs, then cures them all with lush ! 
A " search night ; " or, sent to Quod, she's too game to squeak, 
And Nell's got a word for ev'ry One, and blows up the Beak ! 

Do what you like, 

Nell will never strike, Fal, &c. 

O, she's full of frisk and fun, and fond of a lark, 
To the FINISH she toddles to meet her flash Spark ! 
She cares not for scampsmen, commoners, and prigs, 
For " Saucy Nell's " at home in all the knowing rigs. 

For she cuts a dash. 

And is full of flash — Fal, &c. 

Her FIGURE and fine bust might with Yenus's compare, 
Indeed the tout ensemble is so beautiful and rare ; 
Nell is quite a picture, with a bosom round and white. 
Not a cove, old or young, but views Nell with delight ! 

For she's so pretty. 

And so witty — Fal, &c. 

Nell's a Yesteis in attib.ides — a Stephens in her song — 
And for a " gay and merry life," be it short or long : 
But constancy is not her forte — Nell will flirt with all — 
Yet a trump to the last, till Old Time makes her FALL ! 

Then with sighs. 

The blades pipe their eyes — Fal, &c. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 131 

The Corinthian, according to the Plate, is the only one 
of the pai'ty who appears to be wide aivnke upon the subject ; 
the " Young One " is completely " done up," and nearly 
dropped off his perch, so overcome with sleep, from liis 
previous exertions over the glass ; and Logic is about 
FINISHED, yet witty in his cups, by his observation, that 
** he would reel against the lady, if she had no objection." 
The " uncommonly big gentleman " seems as large as life, 
and full of the juice of the grape ; his optics are quite 
dazzled with the elegant movements of Saucy Nell, and 
her attractive appearance altogether ; and, in the true spirit 
of gallantry, has ordered her some tea and coffee, for the 
amusement she has afforded him and the whole company. 
The surrounding group must be viewed as a motley one ; 
but it is true to Nature, and a specimen of those nightly 
scenes which abound in the Metropolis — most clearly point- 
ing out the old adage, " that one-half of the world do not 
know how the other half lives." Mrs. 0^ Flaherty is " trjdng 
it on " with Tom, saying, "he is too much of a jontleman to 
let an oiild Irish hard-working sort of a woman, like herself, 
pay for the small taste of coffee she has had to keep her 
inside warm." 

Getting home to bed after a spree, like everything else, 
generally finds its own level. When parties are quite tired 
with the scene before them, dead beat, become stupid and 
sleepy, worn out with fatigue, and cannot " keep it up " any 
longer, then home is thought of, and obtained by the best 
means possible. It was rather late in the day before our 
heroes met together at Corinthian House, to compare 
notes, on the last night's adventures. Tom was none the 
worse for his trip to the FINISH ; but Logic, with a sigh, 
declared himself to be quite " mops and brooms," as to the 
confused state of his " upper story ! " Jerry felt feverish, 
languid, and completely out of sorts ; and the " uncommonly 
big gentleman," in spite of swallowing oceans of soda-water, 
declared " his copper " to be so hot, that he thought all the 
water in the sea could not reduce his thirst. " I have an 
acquaintance at Chatham," said Sir John, "from whom I 

K 2 



132 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON, 

have just received a friendly invitation to his house, and also 
to take a view of the Dock Yard, which abounds with sub- 
jects of the most interesting description to the visitor ; 
therefore, as we have been * keeping if tij) ' rather too much 
lately for our constitutions, I think a journey in the country, 
for two or three days, will renovate us all. What do you 
say, then, Gents., for a start with me to Chatham ? " 
"Nothing could be better timed," answered Tom; "the 
road is altogether interesting : indeed, Kent, in my opinion, 
is one of the finest counties in England, and the views are 
truly delightful all along the coast." "Go!" said Logic; 
" who would refuse such a pleasant trip ? I propose that 
we start early to-morrow morning for Chatham. Then let 
us have a quiet evening ; be all good boys ; get to our beds 
early, and be able to set off in prime trim." " Agreed," 
replied Jerry ; "I have long had a great desire to visit 
Chatham Dock Yard." 

The party all kept their promises the next day, and, in 
the course of a few fleeting hours, our heroes found them- 
selves in the company of the friend of Sir John, at Chatham ; 
and, after partaking of some slight refreshment, quite pre- 
pared to visit the Dock Yard. They had scarcely signed 
their names at the entrance of the place, and proceeded a 
few steps, when the Corinthian turned aside with horror 
and surprise, on beholding Splendid Jem (at one period of 
his life one of the gayest members belonging to the fashion- 
able world) double- ironed, amongst the convicts, carrying a 
heavy and long cable upon their shoulders. " Gracious 
God ! " exclaimed Tom, with a piteous sigh, " can it be pos- 
sible ? Surely I must be deceived ! Yet, in spite of the 
wretched change in his appearance — the convict's grey 
jacket, the slouched hat, his head shaven, the irons upon 
his legs, grief and sorrow depicted in his countenance, I 
think I trace the remnant of his once animated face. Yes, 
I perceive it is too true. I see the tear trickle down his 
cheek — he bows to me — and I am known to him ! Dread- 
ful vicissitudes of human life ! I had not the slightest idea 
of meeting with him in the Dock Yard at Chatham, as I 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 133 

had understood Le had, long since, been transported to 
Botany Bay." On inquiry, by the Corinthian, as to the 
behavioui" of Splendid Jem, one of the attendants replied, 
" That on his first entering the Dock Yard, Jem was the 
most refractory convict that had ever been sent amongst 
them. They were absolutely compelled to drive him to 
work ; his spirit was of the most stubborn description, and 
he could not brook his altered change of life. But time, 
Sir, which mellows all things, and reduces even the strength 
of stone, has likewise made an alteration in the deportment - 
of the once Splendid Jem. He is quite the hero of his 
companions in misery ; he is called ' the gentleman ! ' and 
looked up to by all his fellow prisoners with a sort of rever- 
ence and esteem I cannot describe. His anecdotes would 
fill a volume ; and his pictures of High Life, and the tales 
of his own dashing career, to his fellows in wretchedness, 
appear more like a romance than anything like matters of 
fact. Jem might long since have been promoted to the 
situation of a Captain of the Gang, which would have not 
only relieved him from the weight of his irons, but also 
from laborious duty. His ^yride would not let him bend; 
and, to use his own words, ' his tongue forsook its office,' 
and he could not bring his mind to supplicate any favour 
from an inferior to himself. Within the last twelvemonths 
he has been much more reconciled to his fate ; and, when 
in good humour, he is inclined to be facetious respecting his 
situation on board the hulks. ' I might,' said he, to a friend, 
' have met with a worse accident early one morning, near 
St. Sepulchre's Church. I might have " dropped doicn upon 
my luck,"* and been silent about the circumstance to the 
end of time. But, thanks to my friends, a provision has 
been made for me, under the care and protection of his 
Majesty, for scren long years ; and the advantages attached 
to my situation are worthy of recital. I am not called upon 
for rent and taxes, nor threatened with executions by the 
parish officers. I do not want for clothes : of course I am 

* Hanged. The metaphor is certainly good. Splexdip Jkm then 
C'juld never have published an account of his own disgrace. 



134 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 



not bored by the duns of tailors : and, as I am compelled 
to wash for myself, I escape altogether the ^;rr/f(? of noisy 
laundresses for their liftle bi/l.' On his first appearance on 
board of the hulks, Jem was not destitute of several com- 
forts, money and provisions being frequently sent to him by 
several of his old acquaintances in high life, who pitied his 
unhappy reverse of fortune. But he has often been heard to 
say, with a heart-rending sigh, ' that he had outlived all his 
friends, and long since been forgotten by his most intimate 
jmls.' His soliloquies, during his leisure moments of reflec- 
tion on board the prison-ship, are of the most affecting kind, 
and so touching in their nature, as to elicit tears from some 
of the most desperate of bis companions. ' The inconstancy 
and neglect of Nancy,' he exclaimed, with the most impas- 
sioned distress of mind, ' is the worst stab of all to my feel- 
ings ; and I am ashamed such drops of weakness should dis- 
grace my cheeks ! I have calculated upon her Jciiidiiess, her 
vows, her protestations, her grief at my departure from 
London ; but she is now in the arms of another ; and her 
perfidy and ingratitude cut me to the soul. The Dolphin* 
has proved to me one of the truest of mirrors, in which I 
have been enabled to take a view of myself — a whole-length 
portrait — the light and shade of my character — the badness 
of my conduct — and the weakness and depravity of my 
mind. I have been everything hy turns in society — a flat, a 
sharp, a gentleman, and a thief, a swindler, and a rogue ; in. 
short, a pest to mankind. Yet, I flatter myself, gentle in 
disposition, and honourable in feeling, when I first entered 
the world ; but fierce, desperate, abandoned, and even cruel, 
when reverse of fortune stared me in the face, and I found 
no escape from ruin. But it is never too late to mend ; and 
should Providence enable me to outlive my sentence, I hope 
to return to society an altered and a better man ; and, by 
my future good conduct, repair the numerous errors of my 
early life. I have bitterly paid for my wicked career ; but 
not so much, I must own, in bodily suffering and confine- 



* The name of the prison-ship. 



LIFE IN AJJD OUT OV LONHOX 133 

ment,* compared with the severe reflections of a distracted, 
agonised miud.' " 

The inspection of the various departments in the Dock 
Yard proved a very high treat to the whole party, and amply 
repaid them for their journey from London. " I cannot 



* The situation of the convicts in the Dock Yard is degrading, but 
not otherwise painful. They do not work harder, perhaps nothing 
like so hard, as the journeymen emialoyedin the different departments 
in the Yard ; and they are allowed an hour for theii- dinner, at twelve 
o'clock, and quit work at four in the afternoon. A great deal may 
depend upon the disposition of task-masters, as to the quantity of 
labour required to be done by them during the day. According to 
their conduct, so they are treated — and those convicts w^ho are mild 
and obedient have merely a slight ring round their ankles ; while 
those, on the contrary, who are stubborn and refractory, are double- 
ironed, with long chains affixed to them. They are allowed thrke 
PEXCE per day : three half-pence out of which is stopped : but the 
stoppages are given to them when they quit the prison- ship, on the 
expiration of their sentence, in order that thej' may leave the Yard 
with now clothes, and return to their friends in a decent manner. 
The prison-ship is a model of cleanliness throughout ; and in several 
of the cells, which are extremely light and airy, convicts such as 
tailors, shoemakers, carpenters, &c., are kept at work. The convicts 
sleep in hammocks. The prison-ship contains a very neat chajjel for 
divine worship, and a set of good choristers are always heard on the 
Lord's Day, accompanied by several musical instruments. The 
clergyman, whose duty it is to preach to those unfortunate creatures, 
takes considerable pains to point out to them the wicked course of life 
they have led ; and he also exhorts them, with much earnestness and 
feeling, to improve their minds, in order that they may again mix 
with the world like regenerated men. The most hardened and de- 
praved characters are placed immediately before his eyes, and close 
to the pulpit ; and to them his discourses are pointedly directed : and, 
in numerous instances, he has been successful beyond his most san- 
guine expectations, in reclaiming fellows whose barbarous ideas and 
brutality of conduct have almost been considered hopeless. Splendid 
Jem, in the first instance, treated the remarks of the preacher with the 
uttermost contempt ; but, in the course of a few months, he publicly 
declared to his companions in misery, that it was owing to the religious 
admonitions of the reverend divine that he became penitent — an 
altered man — and first awakened to his real situation, and his duty to 
his Creator. The chapel, during the nights in the week, is appropri- 
ated for the purposes of a school, in which the boys and men receive 
instruction. The friends or relatives of the convicts are permitted to 
visit them, without any difficulty whatever. Every exertion is em- 



136 LIFE IN AXU OUT OF LONDON. 

give praise enough to all the persons under whose direction 
this first-rate establishment is conducted ; and it might," 
said the Oxo)iian, " be viewed again and again, with increased 
pleasure and profit to the inquiring visitor." On the return 
of our heroes to spend the evening with the friend of Sir 
John Blubber, Jerry appeared so much interested in the 
history of the unfortunate convict who recognised the 
Corinthian upon their first entrance into the Dock Yard, 
that he solicited Tom for an outline of his character. 

" Splendid Jem was a most conspicuous character during 
his short-lived career in the bean monde," said the Corinthian, 
"and I must also add, that he really, in many respects, was 
a clever fellow, Jem was considered a man of some taste ; 
but he was extravagant, thoughtless, fickle, passionate, and 
dissipated, to the very echo. It was his ambition to have it 
said of him, that he possessed the finest women, the best 
horses and dogs, the most splendid house, and the most 
elegant vehicles in London ; in short, his aim was to be 
oriyinal, unmindful of the expense ; Kkewise to obtain the 
ichifiper that he was at the top of the tree amongst the Sicells, 
and to sjiort the first of everything likely to make a noise in 
the fashionable circles. Notoriety to him was the foundation 
of all his exertions ; and this weakness of mind idtimately 
proved his doKf\falI. The law of the land overtook him in 
his wicked career, and proclaimed the once Splendid Jem 
an outcast of society, in the degraded character of a convicted 
Felon ! 

" Splendid Jem was the only son of a wealthy grazier in 
the North of England, who had realised, by his parsimonious 
conduct, an immense fortune ; indeed, he was a greater 
miser in principle than the late Mr Ehces, without possessing 



ployed, by the officers connected with the above service, to improve 
the morals of the convicts, and restore them to society as good men : 
UTid, strange to say, manj'' of them have had occasion to rejoice, on 
their return to an honest mode of life, that thoy had spent a few years 
on board of the tlo axing academy. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 137 

one particle of that gentleman's amiable disposition. No 
person drove such hard bargains, in the way of trade, as the 
father of Splendid Jem ; and so anxious was he for the 
accumulation of wealth, that, sooner than lose a single farth'uuj 
in any transaction whatever, he would forego the barter of 
cattle for hundreds, if he thought any dealer would get the 
best of him in a bargain. Pounds, Shillings, and Pence, were 
his darlings ; and his mind was employed in calculating how 
to imjjrove his capital, from peep-o'-day until the closing of 
night. Money, altogether, was his idol. He had also taken 
great pains to instil into his son the same sort of feelings — 
that all haj)piness consisted in gain, and love of propekty. 
But Jem turned a deaf ear to such advice ; and, in disposition, 
he was quite the reverse of his parent. Through the rigidity 
and parsimonious behaviour of his father, Jem was kept 
amazingly short of the cash ; in fact, he never could boast of 
having anything like a sum of money in his possession at 
one time : and, during his boyhood, he was in continual dread 
of his parent, and was compelled to use art as to his real 
opinions ; fearing that, in a moment of resentment, his father, 
whose temper was violent, might ' cut him off with a shilling ! ' 
This his parent had several times threatened to do at his 
death, in consequence of some liberal acts of kindness done 
by Jem towards some of their poor neighbours, which his 
father had construed into extravagance ; Jem, therefore, 
pretended to repent of his error, and, in his father's sight, 
endeavoured to come into his views, and to shew himself the 
counterpart of his father — a miser, indeed ! 

" Before Jem had arrived at the years of maturity, his 
father was consigned to the tomb, and he found himself iu 
the possession of great wealth ; but, notwithstanding the 
miserly habits of his parent, and his daily injunctions as to 
the improvement of property, yet, practically, the value of 
money was completely unknown to him ; and he launched 
into all the follies of the day, without thought or control. 
His whole life had been nearly spent in the country, except 
occasional visits to London ; — he therefore, as soon as 
possible, bid adieu to rustic habits, and entered the Metropolis, 



138 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

like a bird out of a cage, wild, ungovernable, and without 
reflection. 

"The young rich grazier, for such he was termed, on 
making his debut amongst the gay folks in London, was not 
long in acquiring the title of Splendid Jem, by his most 
expensive habits and extravagant style of living. He dashed 
at everything — the turf, the ring, and the table ; and shewed 
himself at ever}^ place where anything like notoriety was to 
be obtained. His money, as a matter of course, rendered 
him an object of attraction ; and he was surrounded by lots 
of new acquaintances. He did not want for syeophants, who 
flattered him that he was ' a knowing one ; ' also, that he had 
nothing to learn ; and that he ought to be a leader, in every 
point of view, as the great theatre of the world had not seen 
such a hero for several years. His weak side was soon ascer- 
tained by those sharps who are continually on the ' look out ' 
for some new customer, recentl}^ 'come of age,' who has taken 
up his abode in the Metropolis to sj)end his money for the 
good of the public. Like most beginners at piay, he was 
extremely lucky, and won several good stakes. This operated 
as a stimulus to further exertions ; and he knew of no way of 
improving his capital except by gambling. 

" Splendid Jem was indebted to Nature for rather a pre- 
possessing appearance ; in truth, he could do almost every • 
thing above mediocrity ; and he generally obtained applause 
amongst his companions as a dancer, a singer, a good rider, 
and a capital whip. 

" Diamond Nancy — so designated amongst the heroes of 
ton for her penckant for jewellery, her display of rings, and 
massy gold chains, was the heroine selected by Jem as his 
partner, or rather as his mistress, to give a certain eclat to his 
movements in the fashionable world. The extravagance of 
Nancy, though it might not have shaken the credit of the 
Bank of England, yet was of such a nature as to make any 
one of the Directors tremble for the result of his income. 
Ji:m was infatuated with her fine person; indeed, she was 



LIFE IN AND on' OV LONDON. ];39 

considered a most fascinating cieatnre — and from her dress, 
superior address, manners, with a variety of other fashionable 
"ttcqiurenients, together with a most excellent knowledge of 
the world, she was likely to lead better informed men than 
Splendid Jem out of their depths. She was a capital actress 
with the men — she had studied their various characters and 
tempers — and her ea-its and her entrances seldom failed in 
producing the desired effect. Diamond K"ancy was a com- 
plete match for the most knowing fellows upon the town — 
she was all art ; — a set speech, a well-directed piece of 
flattery, or an elegant compliment paid to her person, were 
all useless, vmless accompanied by a rich present, to make 
them valuable. She soon discovered the rich fool from the 
poor but gay man of talent, and disposed of them both as it 
best suited her purpose. A coquette of the highest quality — 
and a mistress oi finesse — the whole of her movements, either 
in private or in public, were calculated by her to turn to a 
profitable account. Milhcard could not have been a more 
dangerous character to George BarmveU, than the designing 
Diamond Xancy was to a fond young man, inexperienced in 
the ways of the world. In the deliriimi of the moment, Jem 
flattered himself that he was the envy of all the gallants in 
the Metropolis, by her pretended preference to him, and also 
in being her protector. He was the right sort of fellow for 
her purpose, and she soon moulded him to her views : her 
smiles were law ; but her frown was of so terrific a nature, 
whenever she was thwarted, that a refusal to any of her 
requests was out of the question. She had gained so com- 
plete an ascendancy over his feelings, that Jem thought her 
taste and judgment were so correct, upon every occasion, as 
to bid defiance to contradiction. He had a pile of money in 
his possession when he first became dazzled with the charms 
of his mistress ; but her repeated drafts upon his good nature 
very soon changed its appearance, and reduced the quantity. 
While he contributed to her luxuries, he was 'her darling Jem, 
her spirited fellow, a generous creature, and a gentleman.' But 
when he began to 'ask himself a few questions,' when the cash 
was melting away like snow before the sun, and no return to 
prop up his extravagant style of living — and although he did 



140 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

not positively refuse her ' supplies,^ but ventured to give his 
opinion in the most difl&dent manner, that ' such and such 
things' might be dispensed with asunnecessary — Nancy termed 
him a cross fellow, always out of humour, did nothing like 
anybody else, and had become quite a shabby man : that 
he had got t'wed of her ; and if it did not suit his income to 
keep her like a lady, he had much better declare his opinion 
at once, and then there would be an end of the connection 
between them. ' The sooner the better,' said Diamond 
Nancy, ' as the rich Baronet, the banker, has been teazing 
me these last nine months ; nay, more, he has offered me 
my own terms ; but my foolish penchant towards a man who 
has the cruelty to deny me a few trifles will, if longer per- 
sisted in, lead to my ruin ; but I now see my folly, and must 
endeavour to repair my error, arising from the weakness of 
my disposition ; and transfer my love (said Diamond Nancy, 
apparently affected, accompanied with deep sighs, and tears 
trickling down her cheeks) and affection to another person, 
who will know how to value my attention, and return it 
with a more suitable regard.' This hypocritical harangue 
completely proved the overthrow of Splendid Jem — he 
was too fond of her company to quit her, and almost preferred 
ruin to a separation from his dear Nancy. His destruction 
now became inevitable : ' all going out, and nothing coming in,' 
ultimately reduced the pile of money, and left not a shilling 
behind. His credit was good for a long time, as the real 
state of his affairs was unknown to the world. But clamorous 
duns, disappointed creditors, and ivhisjjcrs getting abroad 
that it was ' all up with him ' — and the exertions of John 
Doe and Richard Roe continually harassing his person, 
his splendid career was at an end, and an execution not only 
cleared his mansion of everything that was moveable, but 
completely turned him out of doors. In this afilicting 
dilemma. Diamond Nancy, from whom he exjjected consola- 
tion, took her departure ; but not without politely wishing 
him * better luck ! ' adding a sort of sneer to her ingratitude, 
' that she hoped, if ever he should have another chance of 
being a man of property again, he would not be so extrava- 
gant in future. That she was sorry to leave him ; but he 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 141 

must pardon her for doing the best she could for herself.' 
The shock, and change of circumstances, were almost too 
much for him ; but he lived some time by small loans from 
his friends, who had known him in better days ; but not 
fixing any day for the repayment of them, an end, of course, 
was put to that mode of raising the supplies. Poverty and 
want had reduced his once high notions of life ; and his 
necessities made him glad to quarter upon any of his 
acquaintances who would suffer his visits. Live he must, 
somehow or another ; and he was ' at all in the rituj,'' and 
not particular as to niceties about obtaining the cash : — 

-From playing the fool, 



"When lie first euter'd College, or quitted the School, 

ExPEXSE, and hud company, avarice, and art, 

Had changed ev'iy feeling, axiA. poison'' d his heart. 

Then the system of tekrok is sometimes employ'd, 

'Gainst the pigeons whose fortunes and peace were destroy'd 

And they menace his life, if he's backward to pay, 

And, perchance, in a duel they take it away. 

Thus the robber to-day, to the pigeon's great sorrow, 

Turns a mtjederer most foul on the dawn of to-morrow. 

Thus, step by step, his descent to misery and wretchedness 
was almost as rapid as his ascent to property ; and he be- 
came a complete beggar, and had no other alternative but 
taking refuge in the Fleet or King's Bench Prison, to relieve 
himself from his numerous debts. The benefit of the In- 
solvent Act, it is true, gave him once more his liberty ; but 
it is equally true, that he was again thrown upon the world 
without a shilling in his pocket — and no shelter to cover 
his unhappy head : and, to render his misfortunes the more 
heavy upon his feelings, he was laughed at as a flat — 
despised as a rogue — set down as a villain — cut by all his 
former acquaintances — no one pitying his distress — and 
ultimately he became Kttle else than a vagabond. In this 
extremity, almost driven to madness, he associated with 
the most abandoned characters ; and, by turns, the once 
Splendid Jem filled the characters of Sic inciter and Thief. 
Tailors were deluded by his artifices ; tavern-keepers were 
robbed of their spoons and sheets; and he levied his con- 



n 



142 LIFE IN AXD OVT OF LONDON. 

tributions on tlie public in almost as numerous sclieraos as 
tbe eyes of Argus. For a short period, he was more than 
successful in his operations, and came triumphantly off in 
all his nefarious practices. But justice, although slow, 
generally overtakes her victim, and Jem was pulled uj) for 
defrauding a well-known stable-keeper of a cabriolet and 
horse ; but, by the interference of some of his relatives, to 
prevent the disgrace of the circumstance to the family, and 
also as an attempt to reclaim him, the prosecutor was pre- 
vailed upon to relinquish the charge. This he considered 
as a lucky moment for him ; but it made no other impression 
upon his feelings, and he returned to his wicked career 
without the slightest remorse. In another appearance 
before the tribunal of justice, a Jlaic in the indictment pro- 
longed his existence for a few more sessions ; yet Jem 
made no other use of his liberty than to commit with im- 
punity greater depredations upon the public ; and, grown 
bolder by his successes, he plunged at everything that came 
in his way, until his crimes were stopped by a sentence of 
transportation for seven years. 

" Some little time after Splendid Jem had been on 
board the Dolphin, and in daily expectation of an order 
being sent down from Government for his departure to 
New South Wales, he expressed a strong desire to have an 
interview with the woman whom he had and still loved 
most sincerely, and which might, in some degree, he 
thought, alleviate his lacerated feelings — the parting kiss — 
the falling tear — the heart-felt sigh — and the feeble articu- 
lation of — 

Fare thee well, and if for ever ! 
Still for ever — Fare thee well ! 

But her conduct was so unnatural, nay diabolical," said 
Tom, " that I cannot find words strong enough to convoy 
my hatred of such a inrfch, for such I must call any woman 
who could treat an unfortunate man, like Splendid Jem, 
with such fiend-like ingratitude. Yet it gives us a fine 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 143 

specimen of what may be expected from such hcpt mis- 
tresses as Diamond Nancy, Under every circumstance 
of his chequered life," continued the Corinthian, " his 
attachment had never abated towards this worthless woman. 
Jem accordingly sent her a most pressing letter, soKciting 
an interview for the last time ; but the bearer of his epistle 
was nearly turned out of the house with the utmost marks 
of contempt and indignation. ' I wonder,' said Nancy, ' at 
the fellow's assurance ! I visit an abandoned cJuq) Kke 
that ! a transport on board the hulks ! Not I, indeed ! Take 
back this note : I have not opened it — neither do I intend 
to break the seal : and tell the fellow who sent you, that I 
desire I may not any more be troubled with his iinpcr- 
tinence ! ' This cruel message to Jem ' cut him to the very 
soul ; ' and for several days afterwards he was confined by a 
severe fit of illness to his hammock." 

Jerry' expressed his thanks to Tom for his most interest- 
ing sketch of the unhappy convict. " Yes," replied Tom, 
" it is one of the advantages of witnessing the effects of 
extravagant Life in London ; and the awful lesson which 
Splendid Jem's career affords to many thoughtless young 
men upon the town, ought to be turned to a good account. 
Yet I am not one of those persons who have no pity for the 
misfortunes of others : neither do I like to be too harsh in 
ray censure : none of us ought to be too confident, yet all 
endeavour to avoid being misled ; and I really felt more 
sorrow than I could express, on viewing his altered person 
and degraded situation this morning, in the Dock Yard. 
But that is not all — his table, once spread with all the 
luxuries that riches could produce, and supplied with the 
most delicate light French bread, now changed to brown 
tommy ; * tcater instead of Champagne ; and no valet to 



* Wholesome, but veiy coarse. The meat is likewise good ; but 
nevertheless the difference, or contrast, to the palate of a man like 
Splendid Jem, on his first appearance on board of the Dolphin, must 
have produced a terrible effect upon his feelings. The kitchen con- 



144 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

air his clothes, decorate his person, and bring him silk 
stockings — but, dreadful to think uj^on, his legs loaded 
with irons. There must be a great deal of philosophy 
about Jem, after all — few men could have endured such a 
sweeping reverse of fortune, without putting an end to it by 
some desperate expedient. However, I am glad to learn 
that he is resigned to his fate — has seen his errors — and 
joyfully looks forward to that day which gives him liberty, 
in order to convince his friends that he is not only an altered 
but a better man." 

" Pity, without something of a more substantial nature 
to back it, is so much like emptii sentiment," observed 
Logic, " that I propose each of us should subscribe one 
sovereign, towards alleviating, in some small degree, his 
wretched, miserable situation, and let the amount be im- 
mediately sent to him, with our good wishes that he may 
be enabled again to return to society." The Oxonian'' s pro- 
position was immediately agreed to by the whole of the 
party. " I perceive," said Tom to Jerry, " that the un- 
grateful conduct of his mistress has disgusted you : and I 
sincerely advise you to be upon your guard against forming 
any connexion with women of her description, too many of 
which abound in this gay fascinating Metropolis." 

" The coldness and want of feeling displayed by Diamond 
Nancy reminds me," said Tom, " of another ' gay piece of 
frailty,' called ' Sinnivating Peg.' Some few years since, 
this well-known character in the flash world, as a \fanuhj 
woman,' and who, in the cant phrase of the day, in her own 
circles, was termed the ticister, in consequence of SEVEN 
of her Fancy Men having met with accidents, otherwise been 
hung, which Peg jocularly called getting them ' /// a line /' 
The first entrance into life of this sinnivating creature was 
an early marriage with the most accomplished Prig of his 



tiguous to the Hulk is cleanliness itsolf ; and the convicts, in turn, 
under the superintendence of a proper person, are employed in the 
cooking department. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 145 

day ; but whose hands, unfortunately for him, were not half 
so clever as his nob ; and although he had the ' gift of the gab,' 
like an eloquent University Swell, yet he could not ' gammon 
the Twelve,' as to his innocence ; and they, out of compassion 
to his misfortunes, placed him under the protection of his 
Majesty's Government, to study Botany for the remainder of 
his life, at Sydney, in New South Wales. 

" SiNNiVATiNG Peg was a perfect Circe in low life ; and 
was viewed as a fijie woman in point of frame, possessing a 
handsome face ; and her outline was considered to be that 
of a wanton-looking beauty. All her keepers ' dropped 
off,' one after another ; but her coldness, indifference, cruelty, 
and abandonment of everything like feeling, represented 
more of the fiend than the tenderness of a woman. It is 
true, that she never attended the executions of her Fancy 
Men ; but she never neglected to ask her acquaintances if 
atcaggering Jem died game ? If troublesome Ben shewed 
jiluck ? She was rather afraid that gentle Harry did not- 
stand up like a man ? If tender-hearted Tommy had not 
dropped down upon his luck ? If Sam took his tie-up 
KINDLY ? She was apprehensive that watery -headed Jack 
would never get over his troubles without ' piping his eyes ? ' 
And if bouncing Bob had kept his word, ' not to die like a 
horse, with his shoes on ? ' 

"The influence that Peg possessed over the above Jfats, 
as she jocularly termed them, was immense, scarcely to be 
believed, a sort of enchantment ; money she must have, and 
money they must bring to her residence, or else the frown 
instead of the smile was prevalent, accompanied by lingo 
not of the most agreeable description. Men of the most 
depraved habits of life, and determined resolution, became as 
inoffensive as lambs in her presence : her word was law, and 
her threats terrific. — * Cannot I hang you, if I like ? You 
are in my power ; therefore, do not exasperate me ! ' Peg 
also picked up money in the way of prostitution ; or, rather, 
by assuming that character, the better to answer her pur- 
poses. One instance will suffice : Peg, in general, was 

L 



146 MFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

elegantly dressed, and her appearance sheioy, by which 
means she was likely to become attractive to numerous 
stupid gazers in the streets of the Metropolis. 

"In one of her perambulations through the city, she 
induced a gentleman to accompany her to a house of ill- 
fame, where he experienced the following treatment : — * Do 
you see that portrait, Sir ? ' said Peg, pointing to the head 
of a ruffianly-looking fellow, in a frame, and giving him a 
look of the most terrifying aspect ; * that was my late 
husband. He was a most determined character ; and one 
morning he was hanged for shooting at a gentleman. He 
has left his pistol to me, as his only legacy ; {pointing the 
pidol at kini) this little silencer, which I hold in my hand, 
is not to be admired for the beauty of its workmanship), 
but to be prized for the excellence of its execution. It 
never failed, m the hands of my late husband, to bring 
down the man it was aimed at ; and it is still capable of 
great execution, when properlj^ applied against any object. 
It is of great service to me.' This harangue was quite 
enough ; indeed, rather too much for the nerves of the 
gentleman, and any explanation quite unnecessary. Tremb- 
ling, agitated to the utmost degree, and his knees knocking 
against each other with affright, he started up from the 
couch, as if recollecting himself of some previous engage- 
ment, and begged Peg to accept of a five-pound note, as 
he had business of the utmost importance that required his 
immediate attention, and, in a polite manner, requested to 
take his leave of her. With a sort of satisfactory grin 
upon her countenance, she pocketed the note, observing, 
this is as it should be, according to the toast, * May the 
tears of distress always be wiped away by the soft paper 
of Abraham Newland.' She also hoped he had not been 
alarmed at her harmless joke ; and she should be very 
glad to see him again soon : then with the utmost sang 
froid rang the bell, and ordered the servant to * light the 
gentleman out of the passage, as it was too dark for him to 
see his way.' " "Surely," exclaimed Jerry, "it is wrong 
to call Peg a Avoman ; the designation would be far more 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 147 

correct if you termed her a devil in human form." " It 
would, indeed," replied the Corinthian ; " but she certainly 
had the exterior of a female ; and also appeared in petti- 
coats. However ungallant and uncharitable on my part it 
may seem, I really am afraid there are a great many more 
such like infamous characters to be met with in the wide 
range of Life in London." " God forbid ! " said Logic, 



CHAPTER yil. 

Neic scenes for- the Young One. Logic visits his Old 
Acquaintances on hoard the Fleet. Tom and ^^.n^x play 
a Match at Rackets nith Sir John Blubber. The 
fat Knight floored ! Old Mordecai — a character. The 
grand Lounge. Regent Street to ivit. Tom's elegant 
set-out — q/f to Ascot. A Panoramic View of the Scene. 
Highest Life. The betting Stand. A sketch of the vener- 
able Swell Trap. 

Corinthian House was once more enlivened by the return 
of the party to town ; and various proposals were made 
by Tom, Sir John, and Logic, for the amusement of 
Jerry. 

The fat Knight, it appears, had flattered himself, that 
having received lessons from the late celebrated players at 
racket, Messrs Davies* and Poicell, and also some instruc- 
tions as to the game at fives under that phenomenon, the 
late Pat Cavanagh,f he laughed outright at the efforts of 

* It was remarked of the late John Davies, the racket-player, that 
he did not seem to follow the ball, but the ball seemed to follow him. 
Give him a foot of wall, and he was sure to make the ball. The four 
best racket-players of that day were Jack Sjnres, Jem Hardinge, Armi- 
tage, and Church. Davies could give any one of these two hands at a 
time ; that is, half the game ; and each of these, at their best, could 
give the best player then in London, the same odds — such are the 
gradations in all exertions of human skill and art ! He once played 
four capital players together, and beat them. He was also a first-rate 
tennis-player, and an excellent fives-player. In the Fleet, or King's 
Bench, he would have stood against the late Mr Powell, proprietor of 
the Fives Court, who was reckoned the best open-ground player of his 
time. 

f Cavanagh was the best up-hill player in the world ; even when 
his adversary was fourteen, he would play the same, or better; and as 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 149 

the " Young One " and the Corinthian, as mere com- 
moners ; and, over his wine, offered to make a match with 
our heroes, for a " rii»/p and a dozen ! " The proposition 
was immediately accepted by Tom and Jerry; and Logic 
was quite pleased that it would afford him a fine oppor- 
tunity of \isiting his old acquaintances and friends on 
board the "Fleet!" But the "uncommonly big gentle- 



he never flung away the game through carelessness or conceit, he never 
gave it up through laziness or want of heart. The only peculiarity of 
his playing was, that he never volleyed, but let the balls top ; but if 
they rose an inch from the ground, he never missed having them. 
There was not only nobody equal, but nobody second to him. It is 
supposed that he could give any other player half the game, or beat 
them with his left hand. His service was tremendous. He once 
played Woodarcl and Meredith together (two of the best players in 
England), in the Fives Court, St Martin's Street, and made seven- 
and-twenty aces following, by services only — a thing unheard of. He, 
another time, played Peru, who was considered a first-rate fives-player, 
a match of the best out of five games ; and in the first three games, 
which of coui'se decided the match, Peru got only one ace. Cavanagu 
was an Irishman by birth, and a house-painter by profession. Ho 
had once laid aside his working clothes, and walked up in his smartest 
apparel to the Rosemary Branch, to have an afternoon's pleasure. A 
person accosted him, and asked him if he would have a game. So 
they agreed to play for half-a-crown a game, and a bottle of cider. 
The first game began — it was seven, eight, ten, thirteen, fourteen, axl. 
Cavanagh won it. The next was the same. They played on, and 
each game was hardly contested. "There," said the unconscious 
fives-player, " there was a stroke that Cavanagh could not take: I 
never played better in my life, yet I can't win a game ; I don't know 
how it is." However, they played on, Cavanagh winning every game, 
and the by-standers drinking the cider, and laughing all the time. In 
the twelfth game, when Cavanagh was only four, and the stranger 
thirteen, a person came in, and said, "What! are you here, 
Cavanagh?" The words were no sooner pronounced, than the 
astonished player let the ball drop from his hand, and saying, "What ! 
have I been breaking my heart all this time to beat Cavanagh ?" re- 
fused to make another effort. " And yet, I give you my word," said 
Cavanagh, telling the story with some triumph, " I played all tho 
while with my clenched fist." He used frequently to play matches 
at Copenhagen House, for wagers and dinners. The wall against 
which they played is the same that supports the kitchen chimney ; 
and when the wall resounded louder than usual, the cook exclaimed, 
"Those are the Irishman's balls!" and the joints trembled on tho 
spit ! 



150 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

man " soon found out his mistake, to his cost and ridicule ; 
also, that talking and doing were widely different ; and the 
loud laugh was now turned against the fat Knight, on his 
being floored by a false step, in his eagerness to strike the 
ball. " Yell, my friend," said Old Mordecai, who was " bloM^- 
ing his cloud," and watching the movements of the game, 
with a grin upon his countenance, " Vere's your rum}) now ? 
Vat, you have dropped down upon your luck ! I vill bet de 
synagogue to a vatch-box, that Young Lambert does not 
get upon his legs again, vidout some help. Vy, you have 
made de vails of de Fleet shake again ! " The whole of 
the spectators joined in the laugh at the ridiculous situa- 
tion of Sir John Blubber ; and several of them offered to 
run for a doctor, " as they were sure his * latter end ' must 
have been very much injured by so severe a fall." Logic 
and Jerry immediately offered the " fat Knight " their 
assistance, who, upon obtaining the use of his legs, was 
quite out of temper at the satirical remarks and jests 
levelled against his bulky frame, but more especially with 
Old Mordecai, and immediately Sir John gave up the match 
in favour of his opponents. 

" I hate Old 3Iordecai," said the fat Knight, " an old 
scoundrel — a swindler — a rogue — a money-lending vaga- 
bond, to laugh at me ! I was once duped by his £\rtiiices 
out of a considerable sum of money : and I have a great 

mind to " " Hush ! hush ! " replied Tom, "you ought to 

remember that we are in the Fleet ; and Old Mordecai might 
soon turn the tables upon you, by hinting that you are one 
of his creditors, come on purpose to abuse him in prison ; 
and the result of which, perhaps, would not only be dis- 
graceful, but dangerous to your person." Jerry, Kkewise, 
begged of him to smother his resentment for the present 
moment. " I will," answered Sir John, ** but, on our way 
home, I will give you some account of the rascally tricks 
he has played off on the public with success, almost past 
belief." 

On quitting the prison, one of the turnkey's recognised 
the Oxonian's merry face — "Yes," said Logic, "on the 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 151 

present occasion, I am outicanl bound : I was too long laid 
up in ordinary tlie last time you had me here ; but I am 
now quite ready to make another voyage of discovery : 
so let us be wider iceigh. I am quite of Sterne's 
opinion," observed Logic to Jerry, on entering Fleet Mar- 
ket, " that, however you may disguise slavery, it is a most 
bitter draught, although thousands have been made to drink 
of it." The choler of Sir John, by this time, had rather 
cooled ; and after he was comfortably seated in the car- 
riage, he began to relate some of the schemes which Old 
Mordecai had practised with so much success, deceiving not 
only the unwary, but imposing upon numerous persons, 
whose talents and superior stations in life gave them the 
best information upon all passing subjects. As a money- 
lender, he carried on his sj)eculations with the most un- 
blushing effrontery. He had four establishments in A^arious 
parts of the town at one time ; one of which was of the 
most splendid descrij^tion. A banking-house was likewise 
opened, to give facility to his operations. It must, how- 
ever, be admitted, that OJd Mordecai was a man of address, 
great penetration, and shreicd to the very echo. His 
origin was extremely low — his parents of the greatest ob- 
scurity ; and, during his boyhood, he subsisted on the al- 
lowance of a charitable institution. Old Mordecai had 
completely worked his way up in society ; no first-rate 
tailor ever measured the frame of his customers with more 
accuracy than did Mordecai the mind of the person solicit- 
ing his aid ; and he was so strongly armed at all points re- 
specting the quirks, quibbles, and the chicanery of the law, 
that any connection with him in money matters was truly 
ruinous. His plans were well laid — he was cold, systematic, 
and deliberate. The better to answer his purposes, at one 
period of his life, he started a weekly newspaper ; but he 
was discreet enough not to enter his name at the Stamp 
Office as proprietor. His confidential clerk he placed in 
that situation, with a promise of indemnity, in case any 
action should be brought against the paper. By this plan. 
Old Mordecai not only prevented any exposure of his 
name, but also prevented any danger to his person. Nume- 



152 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

rous persons were most grossly attacked in the above news- 
paper, until a libel upon a great character put an end to 
its career : the nominal proprietor was found guilty, and 
sentenced to pay a heavy fine, and also suffer two years' im- 
prisonment in Newgate. During the latter period, nay, the 
greatest part of his imprisonment, notwithstanding he kept 
Old Mordecai's secret, he was totally deserted by him ; and 
if it had not been for his friends, he must have experienced 
want, if not starvation. At the expiration of the two years, 
the nominal proprietor was detained for nine months longer, 
for the amount of the fine ; and if he had not obtained a 
release from the fine, through the Lords of the Treasury, 
with the consent of the King, most likely he would have 
ended his days in a prison. Such was the unfeeling conduct 
of Old Mordecai, when he had got his own turn served, to a 
man who devoted his services to him through life. 

" One of his schemes was Matrimonial Speculations. 
Old Mordecai advertised in all the newspapers, under the 
signature of a female ; and, to prevent any clue to himself, 
the letters were directed to be addressed to a circulating 
library named for that purpose. Ladies were to be supplied 
with husbands, and gentlemen with wives. Fortunes were 
to be obtained for all parties, at an allowance of five per 
cent. The librarian was so besieged by the applications of 
numerous fine women to obtain rich partners for life, that 
his business was nearly at a stand-still, when he compelled 
Old Mordecai to remove the address from his library. Seve- 
ral marriages were made upon these terms ; but I should 
not think they were likely to turn out happy ones," said Sir 
John, " property being the object in view, certainly not 
love ; and very far from the idea of the old song : — 

If you mean to set sail for the land of delight, 

In wedlock's soft hammocks to swing ev'ry night, 

If you hope that your voyage it successful should prove, 

Fill your sails with affection, your cabin with love." 

" I suppose," said Logic, with a smile, " you could not 
get a wife out of this speculation, and that makes you so 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 153 

angry with Old Mordecai ! Of course, the Jew obtained a 
wife for himself, out of the many applications of the fair 
sex ? " " Yes," replied Sir John, " Ohl Mordecai had the 
address or trick, I know not which (but owing to the latter 
acquirement, I apprehend) to prevail on a lady of title to 
become his bride : he lived in good style, kept a regular set 
of servants, and also his carriage. He was not a bad pay- 
master to his tradesmen ; but Old Mordecai had the pre- 
caution to settle the whole of his wife's property upon her- 
self. The huhble at length burst ; all his schemes failed ; he 
was indicted for a conspiracy, and found guilty ; but ulti- 
mately he had the good luck to reverse the judgment of the 
Court. In spite of all his knotcing qualities, he had to com- 
bat with one or two of his associates, as deep and as iniqui- 
tous as himself ; and, according to the old adage, * when 
rogues fall out, honest men come by their own.' A fellow 
Kke Old Mordecai, who has humbugged and cheated half 
the world," said the fat Knight, in an angry tone of voice, 
" to laugh at, and ridicule me ! I am very sorry that I did 
not thrash him for his impertinence." " Do not be angry, 
Sir John," observed Logic, " because the Toung One has 
lent a hand to take the conceit out of you, as to your know- 
ledge of rackets. Let Old Mordecai go and pray for for- 
giveness of his sins in the SjTiagogue, so that we have a 
merry evening over your rumj) and dozen. To-morrow, you 
know, the Corinthian has promised to give Jerry a most 
delightful ride through Windsor Park, in order that he may 
not only have a view of its bold and picturesque scenery, 
but witness the splendid company which always assemble 
at Ascot Kaces, to do honour to the King. Jerry is in 
expectation of a high treat." On bidding each other fare- 
well, " Sir John," said Tom, " we will take you up in 
Regent Street ; therefore, be in readiness to start, and bring 
Splinter along with you." 

Early the next morning all was in readiness, and, accord- 
ing to the annexed plate, Tom and his stylish partj^ in the 
barouche, were seen passing through the Grand Lounge, 
to join the cavalcade on the road to Ascot Races. Jerry 



154 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

was uncommonly amused with the journey, particularly with 
the venerable appearance of the Castle at Windsor, and the 
beauty of the trees in the Long Walk, and the whole of the 
Great Park. The procession of the King to the Race 
Course, the E-oyal Stand, and the superior sort of folks fill- 
ing up the splendid scene, made a very strong impression 
upon his feelings. *' His Majesty," said Tom, " when Prince 
of Wales, was very much attached to horse-racing, and was 
a member of the Jockey Club : the Prince won a consider- 
able stake of money upon a race-horse with the late Dulce 
of Bedford. The King, at that period, was often seen in 
company with Sir John Lade,* Mr Mellish,! of great 



* The pi-eseut venerable Sir John Lade, once so distinguished 
upon the turf, was, for several years, the best gentleman coachman in 
the kingdom. There was a certain sort of style about handling " his 
ribands,'^ and " putting his j:)r«c?s along," of so superior a description, 
that he could not appear in public without obtaining universal admi- 
ration : in addition to which, his carriages, horses, harness, and every 
article belonging to his " set-out," was elegance itself. The Baronet's 
opinion on those matters was often consulted by the Prince, who con- 
sidered Sir John to possess great taste and judgment in the choice 
of horses and carriages. He was the great patron of the coachmakers 
in the Metropolis ; and, owing to his dashing style and spirit, several 
of them were indebted to the Baronet for their fortunes. It is said 
that Sir John drove, with the utmost speed, for a considerable wager, 
through a gate scarcely wide enough to admit his carriage, two-and- 
twenty times, without touching the wood-work. The distance of 
ground allowed him to perform this feat was rather short — he was first 
to drive through the gate, then turn round, and go through the gate 
again. This extraordinary performance he accomplished with great 
ease and resolution. Sir John, according to the statements of his 
most intimate friends, was able " to drive to an inch ; " and, also, so 
expert with his whi}!, as to take " a fly off his leader's ear " with the 
greatest certainty. Sir John was also an excellent horseman, in con- 
sequence of his mother. Lady Lade, preventing him, when a boy, 
riding with stirrups. The father of Sir John lost his life by his horse 
running away with him : and in his endeavours to extricate himself 
from the unruly animal, his foot hung in the stirrups, and he was 
dragged along the road until he ceased to breathe. 

f The late Colonel Mellish, when a j'oung man, might bo said to 
have succeeded Sir John Lade in the title of the best " gentleman 
wldp " of his day. Ho came into the full command of his property be- 
fore the attainment of years and discretion had enabled him to manage 



LTFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 155 

sporting notoriety, and the present Marquis of Anglesea, at 
Brighton, Lewes, Epsom, and other races, entering into the 
spirit of the scene with all the candour and affability of a 
subject." 

" I am quite delighted with the elegant appearance of the 
Course," said Jerry, " I never saw anything to be compared 
with it connected with horse-racing. The Royal Stand 
gives also great importance to the scene altogether. The 
King, I perceive, is watching the movements of the race- 
horses with all the spirit and anxiety attached to the lovers 
of high-bred cattle ; yet his gallantry towards the ladies I 
very much admire, and it is conspicuous in the extreme. 
The King appears to converse with the ladies in the Stand 
with, all that condescension and affability which characterise 
the well-bred private gentleman, without displaying any 
sort of hauteur, which might almost be expected from the 
elevation and dignity of a Monarch." 

" Yes," repKed Tom, with great animation, " the King is 
a true Englishman, in every point of view : he is idolised 
by his servants, and beloved by his subjects. In all his 
palaces, none but the manufactures of his own country are 
suffered to appear, except presents made to His Majesty by 



it. Nature, however, seemed to have qualified him for taking a lead 
in everything, and to have given a temperament so ardent as to make 
it impossible for him ever " to come in second." He distinguished 
himself upon the turf ; and the best trainers have declared, they never 
knew a man who so acciu'ately knew the powers, the qualities, and 
capabilities of the racer, the exact weight he could carry, and the pre- 
cise distance he could run, so well as the late Colonel Mei^lish. 
But it was not on the turf alone he thus eminently distinguished him- 
self ; he was one of the lest ivhijos of his time : no man dvoye four-in- 
hand -with more skill and less labour than he did ; and, to disjilay that 
skill, he often selected very difficult horses to drive, satisfied if they 
were goers. As a rider, he was equally eminent ; he had the art of 
making a horse do more than other riders ; and he accustomed them, 
like himself, "to go at everything.'" He was, most certainly, one of 
the highest spii-ited, gentlemanly, kind-hearted men in the circles of 
fashion ; and there were very few things -which he had not attempted, 
and nearly as few in which he had not eminently succeeded. 



156 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

Foreign Princes. The King has always been distinguished 
as a lover of the chase, and a real sportsman. The persons 
around the King all unite as to his kindness of disposition : 
easy to be pleased, and anxious not to give unnecessary 
trouble to his dependants. I rather regret, Jerry, that you 
have not visited Epsom Races ; if you had, the contrast 
would have presented itself to your notice ; but, with your 
leave, I will endeavour to give you my humble opinion 
upon those two places of great sporting resort. 

" The course at Epsom, on the Derby-day," said To.m, 
" displays thousands of well-dressed persons, with plenty of 
dash, and here and there sprinkled with some fashionable 
folks ; and is, in reality, a most beautiful and interesting sight ; 
but on Ascot Heath, the splendour of the scene is unri- 
valled, and the truth is verified to the echo, which applauds 
again, that — the King's name is a tower of strength. Ascot 
may be deemed the rallying point for all the nobility and 
gentry, for miles round Windsor, to pay homage to their 
beloved Monarch. It is also at Ascot that Dukes, 
Duchesses, Marquises, Earls, &c., are to be met with in 
numbers, promenading up and down the Course, as much 
at their ease as if walking on a private lawn. The contrast 
is fine : the character of the thing is totally different alto- 
gether : it is the House of Lords in their robes, over the 
Commons. Both good-breeding and taste are opposed to 
that jolly sort of independence which so proudly illustrates 
the national feelings of the good people of this country, to 
" win gold, and wear it." Epsom Races are more a sort of 
holiday for the Cockneys — it is a day of feasting, drinking, 
and chit-chat. Every vehicle has its basket of gruh, ham- 
per of wine, heavy icet, and cigars ; and enjoyment is princi- 
pally the order and outline of the vast assemblage of per- 
sons ; and ' here the horses come, and there they go,' is the 
most they experience for the expenses of the day. But the 
above sort of munching is not to be seen at Ascot : the wing 
of a fowl, the leg of a duck, or a ham sandwich, are not to 
be witnessed greasing the delicate fingers of a woman of 
ton y although the corpulent landlady of the ' Pig and 



i 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 157 

Tinder Box,' from Wapping, in her lielcgaiit silk pelisse, 
which cost * seven bob and a bender ' per yard, looks upon 
herself with equal importance, in her drcKs, as the highest- 
bred lady of quality in the land. In England, it is this sort 
of saucy independence which makes its inhabitants so happy, 
and the country so great. Deny them not their pleasures ; 
let them say their say ; blow up the great folks, if it suits 
their whim ; and grumble at anything they do not like, and 
contentment is the result. The name only of oppression 
and tyranny, in the slightest shape, brings forth thousands 
in an instant as opponents ; but whenever the country is 
threatened with danger, the people flock together like a 
bundle of sticks, not to be separated in the good cause. 
Is it not truly interesting," cried Tom, "to view the King at 
his ease, divested of the paraphernalia and etiquette of the 
court, habited like a private gentleman, easy of access, and 
conversing, with the utmost affability and suavity, with all 
his visitors ? — to behold the monarch of a mighty and 
powerful nation without his guards (but possessing a more 
firm and lasting support than stone walls or fixed bayonets), 
secure in the love of his people's hearts ? It is English 
from top to toe, and not only a most gratifying, but a real 
picture of the independence and liberty of the country." 

"Admirably delineated, Tom," exclaimed the Oxonian; 
" an artist could not have done it more correctly : it is a 
charming picture of high life : and the light and shade you 
have thrown into the subject, with so much skill and good 
taste, has afforded me great satisfaction : and I also feel 
assured that Jerry must have derived considerable know- 
ledge and amusement from your judicious remarks. For 
my part, I always preferred Ascot to Epsom Kaces. The 
course is so well kept by the yeomen prickers, dressed in 
the royal livery ; and the influence of the King upon all 
ranks has its due and proper effect. The police, likewise, 
under the direction of the chief magistrate* of Bow Street, 

* Sir Richard Birnie is considered one of the most zealous, per- 
severing, and intelligent men connected with the Police Establishment, 



158 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

will not permitf any robberies to take place on the ground ; 
and the draftsman received a gentle hint from the officers, 

and lie unites tlie knowledge of a man of the world with, the arduous 
duties of a magistrate. Brow-beating barristers and loquacious attor- 
neys, either on the one side or the other, have not the least influence 
upon his nerves or his decisions. He is attentive to the poor, and 
not obsequious to the rich — listens to the tale of the unfort\inate of 
either sex with kindness and sympathy, and often has relieved cases 
of distress out of his own pocket, where his power as a magistrate has 
had no authority to enforce payment or attention from the parish. 
The eTjyei'ience of Sir Eichakd has done much for him in his capacity 
as a magistrate : to please everybody, he is well aware, is totally out 
of his power ; but he has travelled thi'ough the different stages of 
society, highly honourable to his character, and gleaned, as it were, a 
jjradical knowledge of men and manners, veiy beneficial to him 
towards fulfilling the important office of a justice of the peace. The 
systematic coldness of rule has not, in numerous cases, influenced his 
judgment ; but where his feelings could be exercised with propriety, 
many an unfortunate hero, otherwise in jeopardy, and likely to have 
been locked up for his misconduct, has been dismissed, with an 
exordium to mend his behaviour in future. A spree, a roiu, or a frolic, 
is treated by Sir Eichard in the proper scale of offences ; also, in the 
higher and nicer points of law, respecting commitment or bail, he has 
not only shewn himself friendly towards the liberty of the subject, but 
has proved that his mind must have been occupied by severe study, to 
enable him to settle many a "knotty jDoint " with credit to his research, 
and satisfactory to the applicants for justice. In the early part of his 
life, it is said, Mr Birnie was reared to the occupation of a saddler : 
if so, it redounds to the character of Sir Richard, and tends to 
strengthen the adage, that, 

" From little causes, great effects arise." 

That man who elevates himself above his fellows, by his good beha- 
viour, industry, and talents, is sure to claim the respect of mankind 
in general. At all events. Sir Eichard has now got the "fore horse " 
by the head in society ; he is also firm in the stirrups, as a magistrate ; 
and quite, in point, that he has saddled the greatest favourite in the 
field — Fortune : which will not be denied as " a bit of good truth." 
Sir Eichard has always been a staunch loyalist ; the country of John 
Bull he thinks the best in the world : over his glass, his song is in 
praise of Old England ; and in private life, he is a most excellent 
companion. The industrj' and activity of Sir Eichard, added to 
always being found at his post, render him a man of importance at 
the Secretary of State's office. Likewise, the peculiar and private 
information he receives from the most authentic sources, respecting 
the various classes of society in London, enables Sir Eichard to draw 
that nice distinction required in his judgments as a magistrate, when 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 159 

previous to the commencement of the Races, that no naughty 
tricks must be played off on the visitors, or else the sweep- 
ing clause must be put in force, and they will not be suffered 
to remain on the ground." 

" I feel very much indebted to Tom for his kindness, and 
the liberal explanation he has given me upon passing sub- 
jects," observed Jerry; "but nothing that I have seen upon 
the ground has afforded me more fun than those fellows 
with the thimbles ; although I lost two sovereigns with them 
in less than a minute ! " "Yes," replied Logic, " and you 
may think yourself lucky it is no worse. As to a (jame, it 
is a complete farce ; and Liston could not produce greater 
roars of laughter from the gaping crowd, than the men 
connected with the thimhle rig. The thing altogether is 
well got up ; quite theatrical ; and proper parts are assigned 
to the actors round the table. The spectator is deceived, 
when he sees a fellow dressed up Kke a Jolinmj Raw, in a 
smock-frock, with a stuj)id grin on his face, and a country 
dialect upon his tongue, offering to bet his fire bob, that the 
pea is to be found under a certain cup ; and the performer 

called upon to give his opinion off-hand, between the flash cribs — the 
sing-song sort of meetings — the Irish rows in the neighbourhood of 
St. Giles's ; the low, but honest pot-house ; and to combat or see 
through the craft and dangerous cunning of public informers : — 
subjects daily descanted upon by the Press of the Metropolis. He is 
likewise a favourite of the King ; and, it is said, his Majesty has 
declared that Sir Eichard Birnie is a man well qualified for his 
situation — the Chief Magistrate of the Police. 

f This phrase, perhaps, is scarcely explicit enough ; but, at the 
same time, it is not intended to convey anything in the shape of cen- 
sure on the want of exertion in the police officers to seize hold of the 
robbers. If other race courses were protected in the same vigilant 
manner as Ascot, doubtless the same good effects would be experi- 
enced by the visitors. However ' ' devoutly such a circumstance might 
be wished," yet were the hundred eyes of Argus all open at once, they 
would not be able, at peculiar times, to prevent thieving : indeed, it 
is presumed, by those persons who can see farther into futurity than 
others, that nothing less than an Act of Parliament, passed unani- 
mously through both Houses, on the subject, "to make men honest in 
spite of themselves ; " or, in other words, to frighten them, to " keep 
their hands from piching and stealing,'" would stand any chance of 
producing the desired and much-wished-for effect. 



160 LIFE IX AND OUT OF LONDON. 

with the cups appearing angry, the countryman in disguise 
wins the money ; this is the master-piece of deception, 
mixed up between them, in order to induce gentlemen, and 
other persons round the table, to sport their blunt freely on 
the game ; while lots of abuse pass between them, calling 
each other apooney and fool, in order to prevent any suspi- 
cion that they are in league together. Others of the party 
are habited like sailors, Jews, &c. The dialogue, in general, 
is of the most comic description, and of such a nature, as 
cannot fail to attract the attention of the lyromenaders up 
and down the Course. 

" You are not the only flat'^ continued Logic, smiling, 
" by hundreds, Jerry, that have * stood the nonsense ; ' and 
several of the most knowing Cockney!^ on the town have also 
been had upon this piece of deception. Those chaff-cutters, 
if you are inclined to stand it, would make you believe 
they can perform what they assert ; and will tell you, 
laughing in your face at the same time, that you never had 
five pounds in your pocket at any one period during your 
life, which is done with the intention of provoking you to 
bet your money, that they may take advantage of your 
weakness, by getting you in their clutches. This mode of 
humbug has too often had the desired effect ; and several 
gentlemen have lost from twenty to thirty pounds in the 
short space of a few minutes. But, after all, it is one of 
those tricks which you might calculate meeting with upon a 
race-course — a spot of ground entirely devoted to sport and 
gambling. It ought not to be a matter of surprise, since 
thousands of persons in England have no other mode of 
living but by attending such places ; and, at their leisure, 
they are continually ' racking their brains ' to produce some 
new devices in order to win, and nothing else but to win. 
It is not the intention of the * thimble-coves,^ under any cir- 
cumstances, to LOSE ; they cannot afford to lose their money ; 
and they are not particular to a shade, if a good stake of money 
is on the table, to bolt with it, under the pretended fear that 
the traps are coming. This circumstance is managed with 
the utmost ease, by one of the party giving the office ; when 



T,IFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 101 

the astonished ^^rt/ is left to do the best he can for himself, 
to follow them, or let it alone, amidst ludicrous shouts and 
roars of laughter. It is their business to keep a sharp look- 
out to pick up a shilling or two in the best manner they are 
able ; so that the circumstance in question does not exadhj 
come under the denomination of thieving !" 

" Come," said the fat Knight to Jerry, " let us take a 
synopsis of the Gallery of Living Portraits." " I do 
not understand you ; or, rather, I am at faii/t," replied 
Hawthorn. " Perhaps not," observed Sir John ; " how- 
ever, I mean the Betting Stand, which abounds with original 
Characters (and the anecdotes belonging to them would fill 
a folio volume), I might have said, from the Duke to the 
Cheesemonger. The persons, in general, who appear in the 
Race Stand, if not all gentlemen by birth, are tolerably well 
dressed for the part ; in fact, etiquette as to precedencn is 
not much observed in the Stand ; and the common-place 
assertion in the inferior Sporting Circles, that ' (/ / am a 
fool, my money is none ! ' in this place has its due weight, us 
the hi ant makes up for all deficiencies of family pride, educa- 
tion, &c. Only ^ post the poney,' and 5'ou must be a good 
man; without the certificate of the Parson of the parish, the 
Overseers, and Churchwardens, to give you a character for 
sobriety and honesty. In the Stand, you will have an un- 
interrupted view of the Course ; also hear the remarks of 
the ' Sweaters and Trainers,'' upon the capabilities of the 
different race-horses ; and if you have any wish to make a 
bet, you can be accommodated from One Pound to One 
Thousand."* " I believe that is the case," answered Jerry, 
" as I have been informed that great fortunes have been won 
and lost upon a single race." " Such infatuation is too 
often the case," said Tom, " and several highly respectable 



• Since the days of the late Colonel O'Kelly, on the Turf, we have 
had nothing like the enterprise of Mr John Gully. On Jack 
Spi(/(jott, in 1821, he netted £18,000, the winner of the Great St. 
Leger Stakes; and also on Memnon, in 182.3, he won £22.000; — iu 
two events only, realising FORTY THOUSAND Ponntls. 

M 



162 LIFE IN AXD OUT OF LONDON. 

families have had serious cause to deplore such unhappy 
events ; but if the gentlemen would not go beyond their 
means, or if nothing else was the order of the day in the Sport- 
ing World but to Hfuhe upon all bets, a great deal of mis- 
chief might be prevented on the Turf, if not total ruin ; and 
also the crime of suicide, in many afflicting instances, might 
not have occurred. If this mode were adopted, persons then 
inclined to bet could not go out of their depths ; but the 
system of hooking bets to a great amount, and frequently, 
when ascertained too late — against nothing ! is the prin- 
cipal cause of the great danger occasioned by the Levanters. 
As the case stands at present, noblemen and persons of 
consequence might consider it an offence not to be par- 
doned, when their honour is doubted, by calling on them to 
'cover:" 

While Jerry was viewing the surrounding objects with 
great pleasure, and returning thanks to the Corinthian 
for the treat he had experienced through his means, by 
visiting Ascot Races — he suddenly started back, on behold- 
ing that great flirt, Lady Wanton, most superbly attired, 
seated in a splendid carriage, and the lively Jane Merry- 
thought behind her, in the dicky. Jerry rather hesitated 
whether he should salute her Ladyship or not, recollecting 
her freezing manner when she bid him " begone," at Bath. 
But the smiling, intelligent face of her waiting-woman, 
whose lively eye almost told him not to be backAvards ; and 
thinking that Jane might have given Lady Wanton a hint 
of their curious meeting at the Fair, he therefore ventured 
to make his bow, by way of recognising her Ladyship, and 
also to see how it might be received. The Young One, 
between hopes and fears, witnessed that Lady Wanton 
returned his 2^olifeness by rather a distant, cold, formal sort 
of a nod. Jerry did not know how to act ; being sur- 
rounded by Tom, Logic, the fat Knight, and the High-bred 
One, he was quite uneasy, and on the fret. The smiles of 
Jane Merrythought welcomed him forward, but he was 
afraid to approach the carriage, lest the Baronet might mis- 
construe his politeness into impertinence ; more especially, 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 1();3 

as lie was a perfect stranger to the family of tlie Wan- 
tons.* If Jekry could have conveyed a note into the hand 
of her waiting- woman, soliciting an interview, by way of an 
excuse that he might offer some sort of apologj- for his rude 
conduct to her Ladyship at Bath, which might lead to an 
introduction to this accomplished flirt once more, he would 
have been glad ; but he had only one way to secure such a 
chance, which was, waiting for an opjaortunit}^ of giving his 
party the slip for a few minutes, and then, unj)erceived, pre- 
sent the hillet-doux to JZ/ss Mervythought, to be given to her 
mistress. At the conclusion of the heat, the wished-for 
opportunity presented itself to Jerry, — and immediately 
on the visitors forming together a great crowd, and prome- 
nading up and down the Course, he " stole away" from his 
pah, went behind the Betting Stand, pulled out his pencil 
as if booking a bet, and, off-hand, penned a laconic note to 
Lady Wanton. He then ran across the Course, and, by 
dumb shew, made 3Iiss Merrythought understand his mean- 
ing ; indeed, the latter person was so well versed in the art 
of delivering and receiving letters from gallants to her mis- 
tress, as to require no instruction to do her duty. Upon 
looking at the direction, she, with an arch smile, nodded 
assent, and, in a low whisj)er, observed, " I will manage it 
for you, and get an answer without delay — only be punctual 
when you hear from me." Jerry, on bidding adieu to 
Miss Merrythought, congratulated himself on his success, 
and how cleverly he had done the trick, unperceived by his 
pals, and also by Lady Wanton ; but, to his mortification, 
he immediately came in contact with Sjj/iiiter, who had been 
watching his motions, unknown to Jerry, and, with a smile, 
said, "There is one above who sees all." 

" It is only a Merrythought of mine," replied Jerry, 
" and nothing Wanton about it, I assure you, Mr Splinter. 
Sureh', there can be no harm in recognising an old acquaint- 

* If the above seutence is not looked upon in the sense of a 2ja)i, it 
is, without doubt, saying a great deal for the rnochsty, if not for the 
Morality, of our Hero. 



164 LIFE IN AND OFT OF LONDON. 

ance ; and for my absence, the apology of the Poet shall 
plead for me, — 

When a lady is in the case, 

All other things must give place." 

"I am perfectly satisfied," answered the High-bred One, 
" and I hope you will not set me down as belonging to the 
Paul P)'!/ family, as I should be sorry, under any circum- 
stances, to be thought either intrusive or impertinent. The 
truth is, that Sir John, who wished to be a little facetious on 
the subject, requested me to go in search of the ' Young 
One ; ' observing at the same time, I had only to give a high 
look, and the thing was accomplished ; and as to myself, it 
was impossible that I could be missing, as my lofty nob was 
to be seen two feet over most of the persons' heads upon the 
Course. I have left the fat Knight, in company with Logic 
and Tom, trying their hich at the Une deux Cinque Tables 
under the Betting Stand ; and I have promised to return 
with you." 

Upon entering the room, Jerry felt rather surprised 
on recognising two of the Magistrates belonging to the 
neighbourhood of Hawthorn Hall, deeply engaged at phiy. 
" I am sure this game must be all right '^ said Hawthorn, 
" as those two gentlemen, in their characters of Justices, 
when at home, are nice to a fault — they fly at everything 
in the shape of gaming, and, a little time ago, absolutely 
refused the poor players a license to perform in the town. 
Such high sticklers do they pretend to be for enforcing 
propriety and decorimi." " You might," answered Splinter, 
with a smile, " have left the word high out of your asser- 
tion : your sentence would have been equally as emphatic 
without it ; as I am certain you do not intend to be per- 
sonal. But be not surprised, my dear fellow, at anything 
you see on a Race Course ; it is something similar to a 
masquerade, from the numerous characters you run against, 
and the variety of tricks you witness played off against 
each other. Too many persons flatter themselves they 



MFE IN AM) ni'T OF LONDON. 165 

are not knowu ; and do sm-h. things upon the sly, not 
being suspected, that, under any other circumstances, they 
would blush to be seen before the public. I perceive, at 
the other end of the table, a reverend Divine sporting his 
blunt; and, indeed, he is a very pious preacher. If you 
heard him, in the pulpit, thunder out his anathemas against 
all sorts of bad habits — incontinency, and other heinous 
offences — you would begin to ask yourself a few questions, 
wij)e your eyes, and prejaare for a good exit ! Such is the 
power of his eloquence. Yet, out of the pulpit, he is a being 
of another class : and the Reverend Gentleman enters into all 
sorts of life, with more animation than most laymen. The 
pulpit hero is a spirited fellow ; bets his £50 or £100 with 
all the sang froid of a leg ; falling into the errors of other 
dashing characters, he has under his protection one of the 
prettiest bits of muslin that can be had, either for loce or 
money, in the kingdom. " I really think," continued the 
High-bred One, " that in the pulpit he is a virtuous, well- 
meaning man : and his exertions are most earnestly directed 
to prevent his flock from going astray. If he should be 
found out, I suppose the old excuse would be put forth, ' Do 
as I say, but do not do as I do ! ' You will excuse me, I 
know, from mentioning his name. I am of Logic's opinion 
— I detest all noses, and I would have all unnecessary 
informers sent to Old Nick. No ! no ! I endeavour to follow 
the excellent advice given by one of the best comic song 
writers* of the day : — 

What a shocking -world this is for scandal ! 

The people get worse every day ; 
Evei'ything serves for a handle 

To take folks' good name away : 
In BACKBITING vile each so labom-s, 

The sad faults of others to shew body ; 
I could tell enoiigh of my neighbours, 

But I never says NOTHING TO NOBODY ! " 

* Tom Hudson. — The abilities of this writer are not sufficiently 
known to the public — his facility in producing songs is astonishing — 
he also sings them with a peculiar naivete and tells his " story " to his 
company better than most men who are not regular performers. In 
his Hue, he is a second Charles Dibden, sen. 



166 LIFE IN AST) OUT OF LONUOX. 

" Come, Jerry," said Tom, "let us take a turn upon the 
Course; variety is our object to-day; and I am anxious to 
introduce you to some of my sporting and other acquaint- 
ances, several of them characters worthy of your observa- 
tion," " Who is that dand//-\oo]dng gentleman," enquired 
Jerry, " talking to yonder knowing-looking little old man 
under the Stand ? He appears to be^ on very familiar 
teims with the nobility and gentry who are in attendance 
upon the King!" " Yes," replied the Oxonian, "you are 
])erfectly right ; no man holds himself in higher estimation 
than he does ; and amongst his brother police officers he 
is designated as the Sicell Trap. It should almost seem 
that he entertains an opinion, and he feels hi's own import- 
ance so much, that the political wheels of the Government 
would be positively at a stand- still, if the Sicell Trap did 
not form one of the Government. But I have several 
curious anecdotes to relate of him, at a more convenient 
opportunity, which will afford you considerable amusement, 
the Sivell Trap being rather a knowing feature connected 
in a very strong degree both with high and low life in 
London. Tom is better acquainted with Lord Love-himsclf 
than I am ; therefore, to him you must look for a descrip- 
tion." 

" I hate to see the fellow make himself so ridiculous," re- 
j)lied the Corinthian, " he is such a compound of frivolity, 
affectation, and bronze ; to use his own words, he says, * the 
women positively adore him ; he is killed with their caresses ; 
and he thinks, if he intends to remain long in this world, 
nothing will save his life but an advertisement to his friends, 
to take the dear, but fronblesome creatures off his hands ! ' 
Lord Love-himtielf is one of the most complete fops I ever 
beheld in the whole course of my life ; and he prides him- 
self that he is a fop of the first quality ; yet, there are 
moments that I have found him conduct himself as a most 
agreeable and gentlemanly man. He can do everything 
well, when it suits his purpose ; but, to use his own expres- 
sion, 'upon his n ice f I/,' it is too troublesome to dance; to 
talk much, shockingly laborious, and only lit for the taste 



LTFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 1 G7 

of pJ<hei<nis ; and to eat, vulgar beyond description ; and, 
if it were not for his condihdion-keejyer, as lie styles his 
physician, who has clearly explained to him, that eating is 
uecessar}' to produce him strength to mix with societj% he 
would leave it off altogether. I have often remonstrated 
with my Lord Love-hitmeJf on the folly of his conduct; but 
his good-nature has disarmed my anger against his absur- 
dities," continued Tom, '-when he has declared 'upon his 
nkety,' that he thought ever}- gentleman should be left to 
conduct himself' according to his own peculiar ta-ite and 
notions of the world. He did not quarrel with any other 
man's pursuits, although they differed materially from his 
views of pleasure and happiness. But, Jerry, you shall be 
your own judge in this case ; I will invite my Lord La ve- 
in mself to one of our parties, and between his Lordship, 
the 'imcommonly big gentleman,' and Tim Splinter, the 
contrast may be expected to produce a rich scene of men 
and manners." 

" I am rather anxious," said Jerry to Logic, " to become 
acquainted with the adventures of that little Knoicing Fel- 
low, who assumes such consequence : and I perceive he is 
now talking to a Duke, with the most perfect indifference ; 
nay, I should think, he almost gives himself the preference 
as to situation in life." " Your observations," replied the 
Oxonian, " are perfectly correct ; and, as far as my recollec- 
tion will serve me, I will attempt an outline of his extra- 
ordinary character. He is certainly considered a hero in his 
line ; a great man within his own circle ; and a prominent 
feature amongst the pubKc characters of his time. In days 
of yore almost, it is said, he w^as known as plain Jack 
DouBLEHEAD ; but, long since that period, the respectable 
Mister has been added to it, and, perhaps, it is not too much 
to state at the present period (if the possession of property, 
for, according to persons intimately acquainted with his 
circumstances, he can give a cheque for at least thirty 
thousand pounds, which would be duly honoured, be con- 
sidered authority), that the Esquire may have graced the 
direction of the Oldest Trap on the list. It is due to Jack 



^ 



168 LIFE IN AND OUT 0¥ LONDON. 

to observe lie has been the Architect of his own Fortune 
and Fame ; otherwise, he might have dragged heavily on a 
life of obscurity, in tossing about the black diamonds ; but 
Doublehead's nob was ' screwed on the right way ; ' and 
his ambition prompted him to obtain a higher place in the 
Avalks of life. He w^as of a lively turn of mind, fond of 
company, a Free and Easy his delight, and no * gay boy of 
the village ' could throw off a flash ehaunt with more naivete 
than Jack Doublehead : — 

It was on Easter Mondaj^ spring time of the year, 
When rolling ToM, the drover, to Smithfield did repair ; 
His togs were tight and clever, his dogs were staunch and free, 
With a blue bird's-eye about his squeeze, and his garters below 
his knee. 

Fal-de-dal-de-da. 

" And again, it was admitted, that no actor, however 
clever, could have placed the emphasis on each slang phrase 
in the following verses, like Jack Doublehead : indeed, 
it w^as his Primer : — 

On the hiijh tohy spice* flash the muzzle, 

In sjjite of each gallows old scout : 
If you at the spell-ken t can't hustle, 

You'll be hobbled in making a clout. | 

Then your bloiving^ will wax gallows haughty, 
When she hears of your scaly mistake. 

She surely turn snitch \\ for the forty — 
That her Jack may be regular weight. % 

" It was Jack Doublehead's pride to be thought a 



*" Highwayman. + The Play-house. J A handkerchief. 

§ A low woman of the town — a prostitute. 

I| Impeach — to inform the traps ; giving a direction where the thief 
may be apprehended. 

% Some few years since, forty pounds were allowed upon the capital 
conviction of any robber, which was called " blood money ! " In munj' 
instances, it is said, that several criminals escaped, because thej' did 
not weigh forty ! That is — the thiove.s had not done enough to hung 
thorn. A scene in the Beggar s Opera, between l.ockttt and reacJiuui, 
very clearly illustrates this fact. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 1G9 

Khowiikj One ; his peculiarity of dress — his sort of flash 
strut — his castor put on one side of his head — and he en- 
deavoured to look the character, and wished to persuade the 
public that he possessed better information than all the 
traps put together in the kingdom. In truth, for a know- 
ledge of slang language, he left the most knowing of his 
pals at an immeasurable distance. Our hero was considered 
a deep youth ; an observer of character ; and experience 
soon taught him, that, to get forward in society, it was ab- 
solutely necessary he should flatter and pay attention to 
the ' Great Folks,' as the sure mode to perferment and 
riches. 

" The Police, at the period alluded to, was not anything 
like the effective establishment which now regulates this 
most essential department of the State. Jack was ex- 
tremely fond of hearing the trials at the Old Bailey, and 
also of noting down in a book those persons that were 
acquitted, and likewise those culprits found guilty of crimes, 
their sentences, &c., by which means he became a sort of 
oracle at ' the Start,'* and obtained the title of * Coun- 
sellor DouBLEHEAD.' His Superiority of information 
respecting the thieves and other bad characters in the 
Metropolis, thus obtained by his assiduity and attention, 
gave him a certain notoriety, which soon made its way to 
the listeners t of the Beaks, + and our hero accordingly was 
appointed to the situation of a Police Officer, as a man 
likely to do good to his country. He left throwing about 
the black diamonds for those persons who were compelled 
to stick to the duty of a coalheaver. On quitting this occu- 
pation, a revolution was not only effected in his mind, but 
in his person ; and the slouched castor, § the open breeches 
at the knees, the short jacket, the fogle \\ loosely twisted 
round his squeeze,^ the large wedge** broach, the long-quar- 
tered shoe and silver buckles, the bit of myrtle in his gig,\\ 
and the cut altogether of a ' rolling kiddy ' was banished for 



* Newgate. f The Ear. \ Justices of the Peace 

§ Hat. II Silk handkerchief. H Throat. ** Silver. t+ Mouth. 



170 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

the more reputable appearance of a smart Trcq) : and lie 
likewise endeavoured to affect something like gentiUty in his 
conversation and manners when in company with his betters. 
He soon proved himself a most active officer ; and his 
name alone became a terror to the wicked and abandoned 
part of the community. In the course of a few years, he 
was at the head of the Police. The Swell Trap, however, 
possessed higher notions than to be contented with ' jogging 
on ' in the routine and common-place drudgery of a police 
officer ; and by his attention to his duty, and good conduct, 
in process of time, he introduced himself to the notice of 
most of the great and powerful characters in the kingdom. 
The Swell Trap has been seen to shake hands with a Lord 
Chancellor ; take snuff with a Duke ; and receive a nod of 
recognition from the King. In fact, few of the highest per- 
sonages in the land but what are known to Doublehead ; 
indeed, his acquaintance and familiarity on his part with 
people of the first descrijDtion was of so strong a nature in 
the zenith of his popularity, that it almost appeared a sort 
of fashion to say, ' How do you do, Doublehead ? ' The 
Book of Peerage he has at his fingers' ends. For several 
years he was a leading feature at all the great routs in Lon- 
don, and his name was thus announced in the public adver- 
tisements — ' Mr Doublehead, at the head of the Police, 
will attend.' His presence indicated safety to the visitors ; 
and on the least hint from him to any noble Lady or dash- 
ing Lord, that their watches or purses about their persons 
were in danger, they were immediately handed over to 
Jack, without the slightest difference of opinion, as the 
only proper place of security ! By this mode of attention 
to persons of the fashionable world, he not only obtained 
great patronage, but his exertions were well rewarded into 
the bargain. Upon the death of Macmanus, Doublehead 
was appointed to fill the vacant situation (left by one of the 
highest- coui'aged polite officers in the kingdom) to attend 
upon his late Majesty at St. James's Palace. 

"Doublehead soon became a favourite with royalty: 
his late Majesty, George III., entertained a very high opi- 



LIVK IN AND Ol T OF LONDON. 171 

niou of him as an excellent officer, and u man of superior 
information in his peculiar line of duty : and the Sicell 
Trap, it is said, has, in more instances than one, been ques- 
tioned by his late Royal Master on the propriety of extend- 
ing mercy towards culprits, by endeavouring to ascertain 
from him the character in society of those unfortunate per- 
sons who had solicited the King for his clemency. 

" A memorable instance occurs to my recollection," said 
the 0.ronia)i, " of the power of Doublehead with his late 
Majesty. A well-known Sporting Character upon the Turf, 
at the period alluded to, was upon the most intimate terras 
with the present King, then Prince of Wales, and the late 
Duke of York. The son of the above Sporting Character 
was tried at the Old Bailey, and cast for death. A few 
years previous to this event, however, his father had ren- 
dered some service to their Royal Highnesses, and they felt 
the obligation so strongly as to observe to the Sporting 
Gentleman, that he might command their assistance, if at 
any future time he should be in want of it. On the convic- 
tion of his unfortunate son, he immediately went to the 
Prince of Wales and the Duke of York, soliciting their 
interference with the King, to change his sentence to trans- 
portation for life. His late Majesty was walking upon the 
Terrace at Windsor, when the Prince and the Duke of York 
joined him ; and walking up and down on the Terrace, arm- 
in-arm with the King, they urged their suit in the most 
feeling and energetic manner, in hopes that his Majesty 
would change the sentence of the unfortunate youth. ' I 
will speak to Dolblehead about it ; ' and calling out 
' Doublehead ! DouBLEHEAU ! ' his Majesty said, ' the 
Prince and the Duke of York wish me to change the 

sentence of . What sort of a character has he 

borne through life ? Do you know him ? ' '0 yes, your 
Majesty, very well ; he is a very bad man, and a most 
desperate character. No good can come of him ! ' There, 
there,' replied the King, 'you have heard what Double- 
head says. He's bad, bad, very bad — can't do anything 
for so desperate a character.' Their Royal Highnesses felt 



172 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

not only much hurt at this determination, but were vexed at 
being foiled in their application by such an unexpected cir- 
cumstance. All hopes were now at an end, and 

suffered the extremity of the law. 

" DouBLEHEAD is generally in attendance on his present 
Majesty upon public days ; and mostly about the Court, 
from his long services connected with the palace. During 
the Races at Ascot, he is always to be seen at the door of 
the Royal Stand, keeping a good look-out that no improper 
persons intrude themselves upon royalty. The Swell Trap 
is in full health, although upwards of seventy years of age, 
and possesses the activity and vigour of a much younger 
man. His flaxen wig, it is thought, gives him rather the 
appearance of a Knowing One ! 

" The following lines were written off-hand," said Logic, 
" on witnessing Old Doublehead settle a dispute promptly, 
in the Royal Chapel at Brighton : — 



Of all the wigs in Brighton town, 

The black, the gray, the red, the brown, 

So firmly placed upon the ci-own, 

There's none like Johnny Doublehead's : 
Its silken hair of flaxen hue, 
(It is a scratch, and not a queue,) 
Whene'er it pops upon the view. 

Is known for Johnny Doublehead's. 

The people at the Chapel stare 

At Doublehead's charming wig of hair, 

And all agree none can compare 

With wig of Johnny Doublehead ; 
The royal peruke on his noh, 
Can't vie with this, or hope to rob 
The barber of this famous job, 

The wig of Johnny Doublehead. 

The loyal Dukes, and Lords, and Earls, 
May dross their heads with wigs and curls, 
And ladies to their wigs add pearls. 

There's none like Johnny Doublehead. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 173 

His scorns to curl, is smooth and neat, 
To all who view it, 'tis a treat, 
And many rise from off their seat, 
To gaze on wig of Doublehead. 

"y^Tien in the Chapel there's a rout, 
And some therein must needs turn out, 
The wig is sure to turn about — 

I mean the wig of Doublehead. 
The sight of it will quite suffice. 
To cure the noisy in a trice. 
And make them mealy-mouth'd as mice, — 

Such power has wig of DOUBLEHEAD. 

Although I praise this famous wig. 

Thus worn by Brighton's Bow-street prig. 

For it I do not care a fig. 

Nor eke for Johxistt Doublehead 
No Whig is he, but Tory true, 
A useful man to all the crew, — 
So now I bid this spark adieu. 

Long life to Johnny Doublehead. 



" Amongst tlie numerous anecdotes in circulation," said 
Logic, " respecting Doublehead, the following one suffi- 
ciently shews his aptness at reph/. Mr Bond, a most active, 
intelligent, and high-couraged police officer, was made a 
magistrate at Bow Street, by his late Majesty, for his services. 
In a dispute some time afterwards with the Swell Trcq), Mr 
Bond rather warmly told him, that ' he took too much upon 
himself; but he supposed Doublehead thought himself a 
magistrate.' * No, indeed, I do not, your worship,' replied 
Jack, in a sarcastic manner ; ' the King said he had com- 
mitted an error in making one police officer a magistrate, 
but he would not repeat the offence by elevating another 
Trap to a seat upon the Bench.' 

" The laugh was once raised at the expense of Double- 
head, under the following circumstances : — Jack was 
attending his duty at the Chapel Royal, St James's (while 
the late King was present at Divine Service), and lost his 
hat, owing, it is said, to Doublehead's over-derontnesH ! 
The thief, observing the Knowing Cove in the act of pray- 



174 LIFE IN AND OI'T OF LONDON. 

ing, and also his animation in the sentence, * we forgive them 
that trespass against us ! ' answered in a whisper, ' then I 
shall commit no sin by nihhiivg your felt.' 

" Two young noblemen meeting with Doublehead one 
day near the palace, one of the above sprigs of nobility said 
to the other, 'I will introduce you to old Doiblehead — I 
know hira well. Come here. Jack ! ' said he, with consider- 
able hauteur, at the same time taking a pinch of snuff, and 
surveying the veteran officer from head to foot ; ' I wish to 
ascertain a fact : but, 'pon my honour, I do not intend to 
distress your feelings. In the early part of j^our life, were 
you not a coal-heaver ? ' ' Yes, vaj Lord,' answered Double- 
head, making a bow with the most profound respect ; ' it is 
very true, I shovelled about the black diamonds* for some 
time ; but let me tell your Lordship, if you had been reared 
as a coal-heaver, you would have remained a coal-heaver 
up to the present hour.' * Well done, old Boy,' laughingly 
observed the other leaf of the peerage. ' His Lordship has, 
I think, rather commiitcd himself in your hands.' 

" The Stcell Trap, a few years after he had obtained 
great notoriety as a police officer, underwent a severe cross- 
examination, at the Old Bailey, by Counsellor Garrow (now 
the present venerable Judge Garrow), or, in other words, it 
might be termed a ' battle of brains ' between them, both 
being fas// to the very echo. The following dialogue 
occurred on the occasion : — 

Question. How do you get your living, Sir? 

Ansu-er. You know me very well, Mr Garrow. 

Q. I insist upon knowing how you get your livelihood ! 
Recollect, Sir, you are upon your oath. 

A. Yes, Sir, I have taken a great many oaths in my 
time ; but I ought to have said, pro/essiona/li/ ! 

Q. To the question, and no equivocation. 

A. Why, then. Sir, I get my living in the same way you do ! 

* Coal.-. 



LIFE IN AND OT'T OF LONDON. 175 

Q. How is that, fellow ? 

A. I am paid for taking up thieves ; and you are paid for 

' getiinri them off ' that is much about the same sort of thing. 

Q. You consider yourself a sharp shot, don't you, Doublk- 

HEAU ? 

A. No, Sir, — but I like to hit the mark. 

Q. You may stand down, fellow. 

A. I am glad, Sir, you found me uj) ! " 

" His intercourse with all sorts of characters, in high and 
low life, must render his recollections instructive and amusing, 
not only to the present, but to the rising generation," said 
Jerry, " and I feel rather surprised that he has not, like all 
the Great Characters of the day, furnished the j)\iblic with 
his Reminiscences." "Yes," rej^lied the Oxonian, "the 
birth, parentage, life, character, behaviour, and 'last dying 
speeches ' of several extraordinary personages, which must 
have come under the immediate notice of Doublehead, 
during his long professional career, and handled by him in 
the capacit}^ of a Trap, would form altogether an invaluable 
document, if not a most interesting Book of Fate ! But, if 
report speaks the truth, the stopper has been put upon his 
'secrets worth kno\\4ng,' by a very High Hand ; and, like 
lago, ' what he knows, he knows : ' but, however he may 
know such secrets, he must keep them for his own benefit. 
But when the grim King of Terrors grabs him for his own 
private use, he may do posterity some service, by leaving his 
Memoirs as a legacy for the use and improvement of the 
PubHc. 

" It has been whispered about the palaces, that upon 
some occasions Doublehead made himself more free than 
welcome, and was checked accordingly for his presumption. 
Such circumstances, I have no doubt, have occurred," ob- 
served Logic ; " the patronage he received was thought, by 
many persons in the highest walks of life, to be rather too 
familiar, and likewise too gracious and condescending, for 
a person in his grade of societ3^ In consequence of which, 



176 LIFE TX AND OUT OV LONDON. 

he frequently took liberties with his superiors."* " Perhaps," 
replied Jerry, " his conduct in this respect may verify the 
old adage. ' Set a beggar on horseback, and he will ride to 
the devil.' " 

The party once more arrived at Corinthian House ; but 
none of them expressed so much satisfaction as did Jerky 
with his Trij) to Ascot races. 



* It is said of the Swell Trap, that he so far forgot himself on a 
memorable occasion, when a Great Personage went to the Opera, he 
observed in his hearing, " that Ma\im was above stairs ! " 



CHAPTER YIII. 

A n'sif to the Snuggery of the " ancommonli/ big Gentle- 
man." Life en passant. Fancy-dress Ball near 
Rag Fair. The Sage of the East — a character. 
Tom in fall sail — Jerry and Logic about to Reel — 
and the " unconinionlg big Gentleman " and the High- 
bred One listening to the strains of the One-eyed Or- 
pheus. Jerry up, but not dressed — loses his clothes in 
a low Brothel. The females connected ivith the subject — 
and curious notes between Jerry and Logic — a speci- 
men of flmh letter-writing. Adventures upon Adven- 
tures. The Burning Shame — a Row. The fat Knight 
and the Hero of the Roundy-Ken. The Cyprian dis- 
appointed. The Money-lender — a rich bit. The 
High-bred One trying to get the best of Old Screw, 
is raising the Needful to support Life in London. 
The Remarks 0/ Logic on the tricks and schemes adopted 
by the Money-lending fraternity. Useful knowledge. 

The promise was kept, and Tom, Jerry, Logic, and the 
"Higli-bred One," were seated round the festive board of 
Sir John Blubber. In the Snuggery of the fat Knight, 
all the good things of this life were to be obtained. His 
dinners were good, and his wines (of which he professed to 
be a most excellent judge) were of the first quality. In 
the City, the character of Sir John stood very high for 
doing the thing like a liberal fellow. The wine was pushed 
about merrily by the whole of the party, when the Oxonian 
reminded Sir John, " that he had promised to shew Jerry 
some rich scenes in the East, and, now they were upon the 
spot, there was nothing like the time present." 

" True," replied Sir John, " and when our bottles are 
empty, we will start for the place I have long had in view." 

N 



178 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

" Call time," answered Logic, " and we will all appear at the 
scratch." " It is a Fancy-dress Ball near Rag Fair, accord- 
ing to the words of the Sage of the East," said Sir John ; 
" and I flatter myself that the Young One will like it. But 
to enter into the spirit of the scene, we must appear of the 
same caste in society ; therefore, some alteration in our 
dresses will be necessary to prevent detection. All will 
then go on in the regular way, without exciting any sur- 
prise or particular attention amongst the party at the Fancy- 
dress Ball. No restraint will be put upon the /aclies and 
gents : and, in the phrase of my friend Bob, the ' lark ' will 
be ' all right.' " No time was lost by Sir John and his 
party — and, under the direction of the Sage of the East, the 
clue to the Ball-room was obtained without any difficulty. 

It is true that, at this Fancy Ball, the Ladies could not 
boast of diamonds round their squeezes ; but, nevertheless, 
some brilUant characters embellished the company with 
their presence. Every visitor acted according to his fancy 
— to po2) in, or to 2^0}) out, as it best suited his inclination — 
and no questions were asked, provided the person paid for 
everything he called for. This rule was the fancy of the 
Landlord, who, with a cunning grin, observed to the Sage 
OF THE East, it was one of the best things that ever oc- 
curred to his imagination, and rendered it, without any 
trouble, a " come-and-go " ball. Everybody was welcome, 
and no one refused admittance. The Police did not attend, 
without they wanted somebody : and, although no master 
of the ceremonies attended, to put Ihe partners together, 
yet any lady at this Fancy Ball might stand up where she 
pleased, without any grumbling. It was all happiness : 
music for nothing ; and Jack and Jill both at home. Jack 
Mainmast, who had braved the hottest war, and been at sea 
ever since he was little more than six-penn'orth of halfpence 
high, in the service of his country, — one of those jolly tars 
who feared his God, loved his King, idolised his commander 
(the late Admiral Nelson), and upon good terms with the 
whole of his messmates, — was a leading feature at this 
Fancy Ball. To use his own words, " He was never idle on 



LIFE TX AND OUT OF LONDON. 179 

the land, and always employed himself ubout something ; " 
either to take a hand at all-fours, toss off a can of grog, 
shake a toe, or make love to the Fair Sex, singing, " If we 
have troubles at sea, we have pleasures on shore." " Any 
port in a storm," cried Mainmast, first turning his quid as 
a proof of his delicacy, before he muzzled back Hannah's 
nob in the corner, who returned the tar's buss as strong 
as mustard, and laughing quite outright, said, " It's all the 
same in the dark, massa Jack, an't it ? Me as good as silk 
lady ? You have got a fine long tail, Jack ; going to sea 
make your hair grow so very much. You very fine fellow ! 
Me like you for my fancy-vcmu ! " — The fireman- waterman, 
full of everything else but water, may be seen ' ' trpng it 
on " with dumpling Bet, as how she could come the double 
shuffle better than his Suke. " Come, tip us none of your 
gammon,'^ said Bet, " you half-sea monster, belonging to 
neither the land nor the water. — Shuffle, indeed ! I believe 
ye; I can shuffle anybody, and no mistake ! " — " D'ye mind 
me," said the Sage of the East to inquisitice Fax, who 
pretended to have a touch of the genteel in her composition, 
and who endeavoured to screw it out of the Sage, how the 
Fancy Balls were conducted at the "West End of the Town : 
— " The rich folks have Uncles and Aunts, who build 
houses for them, and such like things : also find music 
and every other comfort in the world for the Dons, besides 
lots of blunt." "None of your stuff. Old One," replied 
inquisitive Fan — "I have an Uncle!" "Yes, you have — a 
Pawnbroker, I supposes," answered the Sage ; " and who 
makes shifts for you, sometimes, without needles, don't he ? 
You must go to the Hop'-pe-ra ! and then you'll know all 
about it." — " I should be very sorry. Madam," said the 
" uncommonly big Gentleman," to Billingsgate Nan, " to 
put your pipe out ; but you would oblige me very much, if 
you would send your clouds to another region." "I am no 
more a region than you are, damn your imperance ! " replied 
Nan, puffing a mouthful of smoke over the face of the fat 
Knight — " you great pot-bellied cormorant, you are only fit 
to make dogs' meat for a kennel of hounds ; and that long 
monument, sneak-looking fellow with you, is of no use to 



180 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 



anybody else, excejJt the Gas-light Company ; lie is lanky 
enough to put on the gas without the expense of a ladder. 
I supposes as how no one is to have a say, because they 
are not fogged out like a swell? " No Jack Tar, on board 
of a first rate man-of-war, could have entered into the 
scene at the Fancy Ball with more spirit than the Corin- 
thian did, both " toeing and heeling " it until all was blue, 
with merry Peg, of Portsmouth Point. Peg still possessed 
the remnants of a swell icoman ; but on the death of her 
keeper, a distinguished Admiral, she soon afterwards drifted 
from her moorings — was at sea for some time without an 
anchor ; but, ultimately, got into dock near the Tower of 
London. Jerry followed the steps of his master in the 
dance, until refreshment became necessary, when he and 
Logic called for a bowl of punch, to treat their j)artners. 
After the Oxonian had taken a few glasses of punch, he began 
to chant : — 

Then sling the flowing bowl ! 

Fond hopes arise, 

The Grirls we prize, 
Shall bless each jovial soul, «&c. 

The only thing regular attached to this Fancy-dress Ball 
was the time it closed, every evening : when the clock 
struck eleven, the " Cove of the Ken," for the sake of his 
license, turned the whole of the company out, like a drover 
would a lot of cattle in Smithfield Market. *' Come, come," 
said Mr Queer-Measure, "be off — be off — the time is up." 
This hint, although conveyed in the rudest terms, was 
generally obeyed by the visitors ; and however reluctantly 
Tom and Jerry might have appeared to quit the motley 
group, yet they judged it expedient to comply with the 
landlord's order, rather than expose themselves. But, in 
case any of the Fair sex (or their mates) proved refractory, 
and felt disinclined to obey the mandate of the Cove, he did 
not stand upon anything like nicety, and bundled them 
out of his crib, nock and heels ! Sir John and his party, 
therefore, quitted the Ball Poom without any grumbling ; 
and returned to " the Snuggery,'' to resume their general 
appearance and finish the evening. 






LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON, 181 

Logic was now in high spirits, and kept " the table in a 
roar ;" his anecdotes were of the richest quality; and his 
sketches of public characters were given with a felicity of 
expression and humour peculiar to himself. Indeed, it 
might have been termed, without the fear of contradiction, 
" the feast of Eeason, and the flow of Soul." The Corin- 
thian was not deficient in keeping the game alive, by his 
repeated sallies of wit and satire ; Jerry now and then 
delighted his friends with some popular air and hunting 
songs ; the " High-bred One " also proved himself a capital 
"make weight," when the rest of the party began to Jiag ; 
and the "uncommonly big Gentleman" pushed the bottle 
about with the celerity of a wine-merchant at a public 
dinner, who felt rather anxious to give "mine host" a turn, 
and likewise to dispose of a large quantity of his own wine, 
in hopes to procure fresh orders. The Oxonian was getting 
"how come you so? " Jerry was terribly cut; Tom much 
the worse for what he had drimk ; the " High-bred One " 
greatly damaged in his upper works ; and the fat Knight 
vociferous in the extreme. Regularity had now become a 
farce ; and upon Logic's exclaiming, " Let us have a sjivee ! 
I know a place my boys" — (staggering and hiccuping) 
" and, if you love me, follow me ! " This was quite enough, 
the Snuggery was deserted, and the whole of the party, with- 
out delay, on the prowl through the streets, to enjoy a "bit 
of Life," They soon separated, and, like lost sheep, went aU 
maimer of ways. 

Jerry, on quitting the Snuggery of Sir John, had so far 
lost his recollection, by the copious draughts he had swal- 
lowed of Champagne, that he not only missed the way to 
Corinthian House, but found himself the next morning 
in a bed-room, in a filthy hotel in the vicinity of the Thea- 
tres, and destitute of everything in the shape of wearing 
apparel, except his shirt. On opening his eyes, he looked 
about him with astonishment, regret, and mortification ; and, 
for several minutes, Jerry was totally at a loss to account 
for his degraded situation. With a distracted headache, 
arising from the fumes of the liquor, feverish in habit of 



182 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

body and parched lips, lie could almost have knocked out his 
own brains for his folly. The more he reflected upon the 
disgraceful dilemma which he had brought himself into, the 
more wild he became in his manners ; he knocked his foot 
against the floor, stamped, swore, and vowed revenge upon 
the first person who might make his appearance. But all 
in vain — no one came to his relief. What was to be done ? 
He could not sally forth into the street without his clothes. 
After waiting some time in the most afflicting state of sus- 
pense and dread, he ventured down a few stairs, and made a 
great noise, in order to attract the attention of some person. 
At length, an ugl}^ Old Beldam, with a face scarcely human, 
of the most frightful aspect — a perfect heroine for the 
banditti of a melo-drama, opened a door : but, instead of 
listening to his complaint, or showing him anything like 
the milk of human kindness, she saluted him with a volley 
of oaths, opened the book of hard names, and told him not 
to kick up a row in her premises. If he did make any more 
noise, she would immediately call those persons who would 
assist her unprotected situation, and slapped the door in 
his face. Jerry endeavoured to remonstrate with the Old 
Hag on her unfeeling conduct towards him ; when she 

swore, " damn her , if she knew anything about the 

circumstances he complained of : he was a drunken good-for- 
nothing sort of fellow, and had behaved to her the last 
night like a blackguard. She did not believe he had been 
robbed — it might be all fudge, a plant upon her ; and she 
did not know but what she might have lost her sheets and 
blankets by his introduction to her premises. Her house 
was a genteel one — she dad never let her lodgings to such 
rubbish before ; it would bring a bad name upon her pre- 
mises ; and might r^/Vj her in her business ! " Jerrv assured 
her he was a gentleman ; and she had done him great injus- 
tice ; and, if she would but render him some assistance, he 
would pay her very handsomely, and ask no further ques- 
tion about the matter. " Vy," said the Old Beldam, " that 
ere alters the case altogether ; and if you are a gemman, as 
you say you are a gemman, and the canieza you have on seems 
u fine one, and such as a gemman wears, get it where you 



LIFE IN ANT) OUT OF LONDON. 183 

might — but that is nothing- to me. Only tip, as you say 
you will, and I will send up somebody to you to settle the 
business for you as soon as possible. But recollect — you 
must tij). It is that sort of sweetener we folks expect, to make 
everything right ! Therefore, Mr Sicell, follow my advice, 
if you wish to be lucky ! " 

Jekry was glad to listen to any proposition, and, after 
waiting a short time (if the mistress was ugly and terrific 
in her deportment, she was handsome to the Slavey who 
now presented herself to our hero), an old, battered, red 
ruby-faced, hoarse woman, came up the stairs, to know what 
he wanted ? " Have you got pen, ink, and paper in your 
house?" asked Jerry. "No," answered the Slavy, "but 
I will go and buy them for you, if you'll /orZ; ovit the blunt." 
" I have got neither clothes, watch, nor money. I have been 
robbed in this house ! " said Jerry. " You have been 
dreaming," replied the ugly old woman, "and you are of no 
use in a crib like this, if you cannot produce the mopusses. 
Everything here is regulated by the tip!" "Well, well," 
replied Jerry, " only get me some paper and ink, that I 
may write a note to my friends, and let some man or boy 
take it to where I shall direct him, and I will reward you 
handsomely." " Fine talking. Sir," said the Old Hag, " but 
my mistress never takes people's vords — it von't do, as how, 
she says ; but as I am of a feeling disposition, and you looks 
summat like a gemman, I vill take compassion upon you, 
and I vill get vat you vant. But don't forget the blunt ! " 
The paper was brought to him by a little ragged urchin, 
who waited while he scribbled out the following note to 
Logic : — 

" Three-2Jair -of -stairs, backroom, 
nearest the shy, 
" Dear Bob, — Ceremony is out of sight. I am completely up the 
sjiout ! I am in fmwn. I have lost my tieler ; and all the toggery has 
been loned. I am nearly as naked as when I was born — and the cause 
— the lady-hird — has hopped the twig. Therefore, conae directly to 
me, and bring me some clothes ; also plenty of Uunt with you ; and 
take care to have a drag in waiting, that I may quit, nay fly, from this 
most wretched abode of misery and wickedness. I have no time for 



184 lifp: IX and out of London. 

reflection ; noitlier can I make any excuse or apology for my conduct, 
but it is all owing to being inebriated last night — tbatfine champagne 
of Sir John's is the true cause. Pray come directly, Bob : the bearer 
of this note will guide you to the place ; but if you do not trace his 
steps, I am afraid you will not be able to afford the desired relief. 

" Yours truly, 
" In misery not to be described, 

"Jerry Hawthorn." 



Logic burst into a fit of loud laughter, on the receipt of 
the above epistle ; he soon ascertained from the boy the exact 
place and direction to it, and sent in answer the following 
whimsical note to Jerry : — 



"My Babe in the "Wood, — You have made a hi(jh movement in 
life, I see, by your scroll ; but don't pipe your eye. Consider yourself 
in Inch ! You have got your sliirt left, and your skin remains whole 
— comforts under misfortunes. I hope all your teeth are safe. You 
ought to be pleased with your adventui-e ; it is new : and will have 
one good effect — not to be too confident in future. I will look out 
Bome clothes, and be with you as soon as possible. Do not kick up a 
roiv in the neighbourhood — but let the event go off quietly. If j'ou go 
before the Bmk to seek redress, you will be worth powder and shot to 
the scribes of the press, who will cliant your night- scene all over the 
kingdom. Therefore, put up with your loss like a philosopher. 

" Yours truly, 

' ' But full of laughter, 

"Bob Logic." 



The return of the boy, with the answer to his note, and 
the well-known hand-writing of Logic upon it, was new life 
to him ; indeed, it operated more pleasantly on his feelings, 
at such an unfortunate moment, than the most impassioned 
hiUet-dovx from a favourite heroine could have produced 
under circumstances of a different nature. Jerry viewed 
the note again and again with rapture — it cheered up his 
spirits, and he began to feel rather more composed ; yet 
every minute seemed to him the length of an hour, until 
the arrival of Logk; to relieve him from his uni^leasant 
situation. But, during the absence of the boy, he became 
a prey to hopes and fears; Logic might not be at home; 
and, added to the extreme poAcrly of the bed, and the bed- 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 185 

clothes — the blue walls — and the garret altogether of such 
a corresponcliug nature, that his mind was completely- 
wretched [accurately delineated in the Plate). Jerry was 
completely at a loss to recollect in what manner he had 
been decoyed into such an abode of depravity and wicked- 
ness ; the face of the girl, he was confident, he should not 
remember again ; in truth, it appeared to him like a dream 
— a confused sort of passing circumstances, none of which 
he could distinctly trace, he was so much under the influence 
of liquor. Anything like an attempt to recover his lost pro- 
perty was entirely out of the question ; and he readily en- 
tered into the correct ideas of Logic — to creep out of the 
disaster as quietly as he could, and to let the " poor unfor- 
tunate devil," as he termed the female pirate, have all the 
benefit of her capture. During these reflections, he had the 
happiness to hear the voice of Logic, as he was upon the 
stairs. " Where shall I find my babe of the Wood ? Come 
down the s2)out, Jerry ! I'll bet two to one * I redeem the 
precious pledge ; get you once more on your ^jm^s ; and, if 
you promise to be a good boy in the future, and never be 
decoyed by the naughty dicky-birds again, you shall inhale 
the free air in less than five minutes." The Oxonian, on 
beholding Jerry seated on the bed, enveloped in the 
blanket, and his head just peeping out, exclaimed, with a 
face like Listen's, 

" Be thou a spirit, or young Swell prigged ; 
Be thy intents wicked or charitable ; 

Bring with thee lush from Sir John's, or Jachj from Tim's, 
Thou com'st in such a questionable shape, 
That I will speak to thee ? 
I will call thee Spooney ! Flat ! 0, Jerry, 
Let me not burst with laughter ! But tell why " 

" Say no more ! " cried Jerry, " my head is distracted ! 
Leave your jokes for another time, when I can join in the 



* In this case, the Oxonian reversed the order of things. The Balls 
at the Pawnbrokers are considered to represent, that it is two to one, 
in general, against pledges being redeemed. 



186 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

laugh ; but pray spare me now. Have you brought the 
clothes ? Is the drag in waiting for me ? Let me, Bob, if 
you have any regard for me, quit this wretched place as 
soon as possible." " Be comforted," replied Logic, " the 
clothes are at hand, ^he Boy entered with a bundle from 
the coach waiting at the door"^ but they are mine ; as to the 
Jit I will not answer." " Never mind! " said Jerry ; and 
seizing hold of the pantaloons, almost split them into rags, 
in dragging them on his legs and thighs ; the waistcoat 
nearly shared the same fate ; and the coat, in an instant 
was likewise torn up the back. The broad brim belonging 
to Logic, now placed on the nob of Jerry, rendered his 
appearance truly grotesque and laughable. " I do not care 
a pin," said Jerry, "as to the look of the thing ; the clothes 
serve me for a covering, and that is all I require at the present 
moment. I am now dressed, so let us be off." " Are you 
sure," asked Logic, with a satirical sort of grin upon his 
countenance, " that you have not taken anything that does 
not belong to you ? " " What is it you mean, Bob ? " said 
Jerry. " Why, you may have taken some of those tire/i/ 
fellows with you, who always appear at the scratch ! " replied 
the Oxonian. " I hope not;" answered Jerry, shrugging up 
his shoulders ; " but, for the sake of time, I will risk it now, 
however the bare idea may prove disgusting to my feelings. 
So pray let us be off." 

" Stop a bit, Young One, a vord or two with you before 
you brush," observed the Stare//, popping in her old, ugly, 
horrid face. " You have not yet paid for the room ; and, 
after having a comfortable night's lodging, you don't mean 
to come the bi/h upon the crib, do you ? That von't ft, I 
am sure ; besides, you promised to behave like a gemma n 
before you left us. Therefore, hand over the tij) ! " "I 
would much sooner," answered Logic, quite angry, ** tij^ you, 
and your whole bunting fraternity, a bunch of fives ; and also 
indict your house into the bargain, if it was not for the expo- 
sure of ourselves." " You indict us, feller ! " snapping her 
fingers in the face of Logic, and putting her arms a-kimbo ; 
then, with a "\oicc as hoarse as a raven, the old harridan 



l.TFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 187 

thus assailed him — " Come, come, it von't do for you to 
come the grand over my mistress and I ! Yy, you are 
nothing more than some journeyman body-snatcher, in a 
borroAved suit of togs, to come the bounce. Now I tells you 
vat it is — shut up your chafer, and tij) if you means as how 
to be off quietly, and had Kke genimen." Logic very 
reluctantly paid all the demands made upon Jerry ; when 
they got into the hackney-coach with all possible speed, 
and were out of sight of the Brothel in a minute. But pre- 
A-ious to which, as Jerry was quitting her threshold, the old 
landlady, with a sort of low-life sneer, said, " Good-bye, 
young man, — when will you call again ? I should like such 
a customer every day. "What a couple of Spoonies ! " 

Upon their arrival at Logic's apartments, Jerry felt 
himself so extremely out of sorts, and so vexed with the 
folly of his recent adventure, that he immediately went to 
bed. By the restorative qualities of a basin of water-gruel, 
and a comfortable night's repose, he soon got round, and 
became once more the gay and sprightly Jerry Haw- 
thorn. A fresh supply of wearing apjDarel enabled him 
to resume his general appearance ! and, in a very short 
time, he returned, " truant-like,'' to head-quarters — Corin- 
thian House. 

For a few days our hero remained in a tranquil state, 
and filled up his time in the most rational manner. He 
read all the popular productions of the day : visited the 
Theatres, Opera, Galleries of Paintings, and other places of 
amusement. The " High-bred One " was not behindhand in 
quizzing Jerry on the loss of his clothes, and the flight of 
his inamorata. Tom merely smiled at the circumstance, as 
one of those every-day sort of affairs, which occur in the 
low neighbourhoods of the Metropolis : and Logic had had 
his joke, and there was an end of the matter with him. But 
to the " uncommonly big Gentleman " it was a rich source of 
merriment — a sort of darling theme for fun ; and if Jerry 
had been of a choleric disposition, he might have proved a 
little restive on a subject so repeatedly dinged in his ears by 



188 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 



the fat Knight ; but, on the contrary, he joined in the laugh 
against himself — his loss being comparatively trifling — a 
few sovereigns. On one occasion, Jerry observed to Sir 
John Blubber, " I do not regret the circumstance on one 
account — my money has been well laid out — a cure for 
inebriety." 

Business of importance at the Bank of England called 
Tom into the City, and Jerry accompanied his Coz, as 
a good opportunity of being introduced to one or two of 
the Directors ; by whose means he would be enabled to 
view every department in that splendid establishment. On 
their return home through one of the obscure streets, a row 
attracted their attention ; and the familiar voice of the hero 
of the tale gave an interest to the scene, which otherwise it 
might not have possessed to Tom and Jerry. On ap- 
proaching nearer to the scene of bustle, they discovered the 
fat Knight and a Watchman belabouring each other with 
sticks ; but the advantages were completely on the side of 
Sir John ; and the Old Scout was compelled to desist. 
" Oh, you old poacher ! " exclaimed Jerry, " fairly caught 
upon the s/y / " The "uncommonly big Gentleman" was 
puffing and blowing like a broken- winded horse ; at length 
he said, " You are wrong, Jerry, very wrong — this is above 
a joke; and I am determined to have satisfaction for the 
insult put upon me by this rascally watchman." "It is too 
bad, indeed," answered Tom, " to baulk any gentleman's 
pursuits, either private or public ; and I was very glad to 
see you punish the varlet for his impertinence." 

" This is a ' burning shame ' * with a vengeance to it," 



* How this phrase first originated we have not been able to ascer- 
tain, although we have consulted Grose upon the subject. In the 
above sense, we are quite aware, it has often been used, — " A Burn- 
ing Shame ! " meaning, we presume, that it ought to be put out, i.e., 
extinguished ! This mode of expulsion is generally adopted by the 
Parish Officers to drive the proprietors of Brothels out of the neigh- 
bourhood where they exist, when almost every other attempt to abate 
the nuisance has failed. Numerous rows are the attendant coni- 
paniona upon the Burning Shame. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 189 

observed Sir John, " that a man cannot call for the rent of 
his house, without being insulted by a fellow like this parish 
watchman ? Is the liberty of the subject thus to be tram- 
pled upon ? Has not a man a right to ask for his own ? Is 
he not to collect his property where it is due to him ? Shame, 
I say, on the laws that would give such a low fellow the 
power to insult his betters, under the disguise of morality ! 
Away with such cant and hypocrisy ! But I will have re- 
dress for this most gross insult which I have experienced ; 
I will go instantly before the proper authorities, and insist 
upon this fellow being turned out of his office ! " 

" You may go where you like," repKed the Old Scout, 
" but you cannot deny that I caught you tipping the u'i)ik 
to one of the strumj)ets belonging to that ere infamous 
Brothel ; and you would have followed her into the house, 
if I had not prevented you. I am stationed here by the 
Heads of the Parish to prevent such liquorish old fellows as 
you are : and I will do my duty, in spite of your threats." 
*' Liquor-ish ! you scoundrel, what do you mean to insinuate 
by liqnor-ish ? I will break every bone in your skin, without 
benefit of clergy. Do you know who you are talking to. 
Sirrah ? " and had not the fat Knight been prevented by 
the exertions of Tom and Jerry, it is most likely the watch- 
man's head would have been broken. Sir John was in such 
a violent rage ; and the town amused with a most interest- 
ing Police Report upon the occasion. 

" I pledge my honour," said the " uncommonly big Gen- 
tleman," " I was going to collect my rent, and nothing else, 
and the whole of his assertion is a falsehood from the 
beginning to the end : made with no other view, I suppose, 
but to extort money. The following dialogue took place 
between us, upon my entering the street, when you, Jerry, 
shall be the judge of raj conduct ; — ' Where are you going, 
Sir?' I thought it a most impertinent question," said Sir 
John, " and I answered, ' "What is that to you ? ' ' I'll soon 
let you know,' replied the Old Scout ; ' and if you persist in 
following that hunter, and enter that infamous house, I will 



190 LIFE IN AND OIT OF LONDON. 

stop you in a way you won't like, and take you to tlie watcli- 
house afterwards ! ' 'I shall go where I please,' said Sir 
John, * without asking an impudent, presuming fellow like 
you.' It was these kind of interrogations which led to the 
row, when you saw this fellow and me in actual combat." 

[The Artist, in the annexed plate, has seized upon the 
moment, with great spirit, when the poor Pot-boy was 
knocked down in the scuffle, and the Cyprian entering the 
house of infamy. It should seem she had made up her 
mind that the " uncommonly big Gentleman " had been 
captivated by her charms ; but when the row was at an 
end, she was mortified that she had mistaken her man, and 
been left in the lurch.] 

Sir John, before parting with our heroes, made a thou- 
sand apologies to the Corinthian for this being caught in 
such an unpleasant situation : in order that he might believe 
the attack of the Watchman was an unjust charge against 
his character. " AVe are all honest until we are found out," 
replied Tom, with a smile ; " I have no doubt. Sir John, 
but you was upon business, and that of the most pressiitf/ 
nature." Jerry was also determined to "turn the tables" 
on the fat Knight ; and, if possible, to raise the laugh at 
his expense, " Collecting your rent. Sir John, was a very 
excellent cloak for your indiscretion ; but the Old Scout." 
said Jerry, "was too deep for you. He was not to be 
persuaded out of his reason. Come, Sir John, be candid, 
and acknowledge the ' boot was on the other leg,' and that 
you were about disposing of your rent, rather than collect- 
ing it ! I am glad we pounced upon you ; I was one in j'^our 
debt, and now we have made a ' trick and tie of it.' We 
are quits, but with this difference — I lost my clothes and 
money ; and you have been cudgelled for your pains. 
Therefore, Sir John, according to the old adage, that 
* mocking is catching,' we have both been ' served out' in 
our turns ; now, then, let us shake hands, and bury both of 
the circumstances in oblivion." " With all my heart," re- 
plied the " uncommonly big Gentleman," " let us forget and 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 191 

forgive." The party separated all in good humour at the 
strange vicissitudes connected with Life in London : Sir 
John for the Snuggery ; and Tom and Jerry for Corin- 
thian House. 

Splinter, who had been living rather " too fast " for his 
income, had become seriously embarrassed ; in fact, it was 
nearly all over with him ; but, in order to keep his head 
above water, the " High-bred One " would gladly have 
entered into any sort of engagements to obtain a little time, 
and also raise sufficient supplies to carry on the war. In 
this dilemma. Splinter consulted one of his most intimate 
acquaintances upon the town, well known by the appellation 
of " Extravagant Jack,''^ as to the best mode to be pursued 
under such trying circumstances. " Go immediately to 
Old Screw," said Jack, with a smile; "he has accommo- 
dated me to the end of the chapter. He is an out-and-outer 
in his line ; he will stick at nothing ; you may tickle his 
palate with a gnat : or he can swallow a camel, if it answers 
his purpose. Only sign, make over, or bring securities, and 
the bhmt is in your jacket. But the thing can be managed 
without any security at all — only agree to ti}) Old Screw 
well ; let him have the cream of the bargain, and you will 
not be long without the needful : but remember. Splinter, 
you must have a good bait for the Old One ; or you will 
never get a bite." " Your advice. Jack, is excellent," re- 
plied Splinter, " and I will not lose one word of it." 

On the " High-bred One " keeping his appointment with 
Old Screw, accompanied by Tom, Jerry, and Logic, the 
knowing money-lender thus addressed him : " Mr Splinter, 
I am rather surprised that a gentleman of your great experi- 
ence and discernment in money matters, should have 
brought any persons with you to witness our transactions. 
You are perfectly aware, Mr Splinter, that all such affairs 
are done in private ; and that sccresy is the touchstone of 
money-lending. I hope no offence ; but I like everything 
transacted in a business-like manner. Your friends must 
retire, before I can possibly open my mouth upon the sub- 



192 LIFE IN AXD OUT OF LONDON. 

ject." " You are not only a caufiom man, Old Screw I " 
replied Splinter, " but a deep one into the bargain. I 
stand corrected by your judgment ; but my friends, I will 
answer for it, are too much men of the world to intrude, 
when their presence is not necessary, and will retire at 
the first nod from your sagacious head. But I met the 
Corinthian, Jerry, and Bob Logic, on my road to your 
house, and I really could not get rid of them in a gentle- 
manly manner, and that accounts for their presence here 
to-day. However, we will defer coming to a conclusion at 
the present period ; and when next we meet, no other per- 
sons shall be of the party." " Perfectly right, Mr Splin- 
ter," replied Old Screw, " you cannot be too close : even 
the walls, they say, have ears ! " 

" A sly old knave ! " exclaimed Logic, on quitting the 
residence of Old Screw, " but nevertheless, Splinter, I 
am glad you have been interrupted ; it is a fortunate cir- 
cumstance, for, depend upon it, if you have any money 
transactions with that scheming broker, ruin inevitably 
must be your fate. During my career in Life in London, 
I have been rather too intimately connected with money- 
lenders." " Yes," answered the Corinthian, " a little so ! " 
" However," said Boh, " I am now out of their clutches — I 
am also aware of their schemes and artifices ; and, for the 
information of my friends in general, I have noted down 
some of the most prominent features of money-lending ; 
the exorbitant * demands made by those men derourers ; 



* The following dialogue between Sir Oliver Surface and Moses iu 
the inimitable Comedy of the " School for Scandal," is so explanatory 
upon the subject in question, that wo cannot pass it over. No man 
knew these matters better than that late illustrious senator, Richard 
Brinsley Sheridan :— 

Sir Peter — ! there is not much to learn. The great point, as I 
take it, is to be exorbitant enough iu your demands — hey, Moses ? 

Moses — Yes, that's a very groat point. 

Sir 0. — I'll answer for't I'll not bo wanting in that. I'll ask him 
eight or ten per cent, on the loan, at least. 



LIFE IN AXD OUT OF LONDOX. 193 

and the dreadful sacrifice of property the nccess/foiis and 
dissipated are compelled to make, when at the mercy of the 
fraternity of money-lenders in the metropolis. If you will 
accompany me, Splinter, you shall have the benefit of 
these remarks : and Jerry will also derive some valuable 
information." The " High-bred One " immediately agreed 
to the proposal of the Oxonian ; and upon their arrival at 
the apartments of Logic, he handed over to Splinter the 
following manuscrijst for his perusal, arranged under various 
heads : — 

" On the FrauchiJent Acts of the Money Brokers to entangle 
their Clients. 

" An annuity agent has ways innumerable by which he 
twines round his clients, and brings them into his power. 
His profession affords him an opportunity of studying the 
weak side of mankind, and he avails himself of the know- 
ledge which he acquires. He obtains the confidence of his 
clients, disposes of their property in such a manner that 
they are in his power, and persuades them, all the time, he 
is studying how to advance their interests ; and if they 
afterwards find out how they have been deceived, they are 
so much entangled that they cannot easily help themselves, 



Moses — If you ask him no more than that, you'll be discovered im- 
mediately. 

Sir 0. — Hey I what the plague ! — how much, then ? 

Hoses — That depends upon the circumstances. If he appears not 
very anxious for the supply, you should require only forty or fifty 
per cent. ; but if you find him in great distress, and want the monies 
very had, yon may ask DOUBLE. 

Sir P. — A good honest trade you're learning. Sir Oliver ! 

Sir 0. — Truly, I think so — and not unprofitable. 

Moses — Then, you know, you havn't the monies yourself, but are 
forced to borrow them for him of a friend. 

Sir 0. — Oh ! I borrow it of a friend, do I ? 

Moses — Yes : and your friend is Aif unconscionable dog : but you 
can't help that ! 

Sir 0. — My friend is an unconscionable dog, is he ? 

Moses — Yes, and he himself has not the monies by him, but is 
forced to sell stock at a great loss ! 

O 



194 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

and must go on as before. There are many ways by wliicli 
this is done, and some we shall enumerate. 

" The agent makes great professions of friendship. When 
a new client is introduced to him by some of his old clients, 
he professes himself much obliged to his old and kind friend, 
whom he loves as his own brother. He assures his new cus- 
tomer, that, for the sake of his good friend, he will do ever}"- 
thing possible to serve him. He assures him that it will be 
a real happiness to show how strong are the regards which 
he entertains. At a future occasion he takes care to speak 
in the handsomest terms of the old client, and how much 
pleasure he always feels in his company. By-and-bye, and 
with very little delay, he professes to love his new client on 
his own account. He always takes him by the hand as his 
dear friend, inquires most kindly after his family, and is 
anxious to know how he may serve him. The one partner 
plays into the hands of the other ; the less active partner 
will say to the client — * My dear Sir, there is nobody Mr 
***** likes so much as he does you. Depend upon it, 
you and your friends will be taken care of. "\^Tiatever 
business he neglects, you may feel assured of this, he will 
never neglect yours.' The active partner is equally ready 
with his professions, whenever a proper opportunity calls 
them forth. A common-place saying of a certain agent 
used to be — ' If ever I forget you, may God Almighty for- 
get me ! ' To female clients, in particular, this mode of 
operation is successfully directed ; friendship is here carried 
almost to love, or even as far altogether. Housekeepers 
and ladies' maids are not squeamish in their manners, and 
the agents go the full length necessary to suit their cus- 
tomers. Many, indeed most of the clients, being persons 
of the lowest origin, and the agents themselves of the same 
description, it is easy to put on the appearance of common 
sympathy and fellow-feeling. A certain agent, who had 
himself been a barber in his youth, and advanced to be a 
footman, then a money-agent's porter, from that to be a 
clerk, and, lastly, to be an agent liimsclf, was always accus- 
tomed to harangue with great effect on industry and merit, 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 105 

and the great honour and respect due to men who were the 
architects of their own fortune. To all the menials, in 
livery or out of livery, who came about him, he gloried in his 
origin, and professed to consider them as his brethren, who, 
by their talents and assiduity, were raising themselves to an 
exalted station in society. It was thus he wound round 
their hearts — it was thus he converted every client into a 
recruiting sergeant to his office — and hence, by the money 
brought him by the menials, he was able to supply the 
wants of the junior nobility, and keep the sport alive at 
Epsom, Newmarket, and the purlieus of St. James's. 

" The agent gives luxurious entertainments. This was a 
grand masterstroke of policy in the agent already referred 
to. He gave glorious dinners, and was never so much in his 
element as when he saw around his table the stewards, 
butlers, grooms, valets, and low tradesmen, whose Jionest 
savings it was his trade to invest in worthy hands. Early 
in his career, a beefsteak and a glass of grog were deemed 
a treat to a particular friend ; but now, the luxury of his 
table vied with the nobles and princes of the land. For 
plate, his strong room afforded ample store ; he had only 
to bring up a portion of what was deposited as security 
for annuities. Port and sherry were insignificant and ordi- 
nary liquor ; madeira, hock, champagne, burgundy, and 
claret enlivened his board. Men accustomed to hold a 
plate or a horse- stirrup, found servants in livery at their 
backs, waiting upon them, and felt not a little the eleva- 
tion. Politics enlivened their talk, and the old agent gave 
his usual toast — ' The monied interest ' — which was enthusi- 
astically drunk with three times three. * Never be afraid 
of the Government,' said he, ' it is all safe : — as long, gentle- 
men, as it has your support, and that of the rest of the 
monied interest, it is sure to stand. It is the monied in- 
terest, gentlemen, that is the strength of the nation, and is 
sure to prevail.' The conversation, the wit, and song of 
such an honourable assemblage, it is not easy to imagine ; 
it was, however, characteristic. A city banker's groom, who 
used to figure at these dinners, when asked for his song, was 



196 LIFE IN AND Ol'T OF LONDON. 

accustomed to give one, of which the chorus was, ' Set a beg- 
gar on horseback, and he'll ride to the devil ! ' Such eating 
and drinking never were heard of as at this man's house ; 
and when, in his latter day, in the elevation and the pride of 
his heart, he began to neglect his old friends, and discontinue 
his entertainments to the men who brought him their money, 
it was soon suspected that all was not right — and so it turned 
out : his ruin was close at hand. 

" Another agent, connected with the former, was also a 
hon rivanf, but with men of a somewhat different class. He 
affected to be more select, and collected around his table the 
opident tradesmen, whose honesty and usury had elevated 
them to wealth. Well did he know the man who loved to 
hear himself sing, and eagerly did he call for the often 
murdered song. Well he knew, when he dined at a tavern, 
the man who set his heart on being in the chair, and his 
sovereign ambition was not disappointed. 

" A similar policy suggested the scheme of sending to 
opulent trading usurers presents of venison, hares, "v\'ild 
ducks, and partridges. It answered two purposes : it 
soothed the vanity of the receiver, as well as pleased his 
appetite ; and it made it appear how much the agent was 
respected by lords and gentlemen who sent him these 
things. But, although my lord's lands had fed these pre- 
cious birds and beasts, it was not my lord who sent them to 
the agent. They were bought for money, and sent first to 
the agent's house, and thence to the different parties, as if 
they had just come from the country, and as if, in the ful- 
ness of his heart, he must give them to his loving friends. 
Well was this money laid out. It cemented friendship — it 
blinded the eyes — it convinced of special favour and elect- 
ing partiality. A couple of wild ducks, at any time, com- 
manded a couple of hundred pounds ; and, in the long run, 
the presents have been foimd to have cost ten thousand 
times their value. Opera tickets were purchased, and sent 
to friends in the same way, as if presents which had been 
sent to himself from aristocratical borrowers ; and money 



TJFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 107 

was not spared to procure orders for the theatre, for a similar 
purpose. This was friendship, and thus was connexion 
maintained. 

" The agent has the deed drawn so as to grant the an- 
nuity in trust to himself. "Where there are ten or twenty 
people all beneficially interested, it is necessary, no doubt, 
that it should be granted to some one, at least, who may be 
enabled to act ; but it was a usual practice for some agents 
to get the annuity granted in trust to themselves, although 
only one man advanced the whole of the consideration- 
money. He was told, generally, that that was the best 
way, and was not aware, till he could not help himself, that 
the only motive was to tie his hands, and keep him entirely 
in the power of the agent. 

" They put ten or twenty people into the same deed. 
When so many parties are in the deed, and the agent in trust, 
he has the whole power. In the abstract furnished, to each 
annuitant, the ten or twenty people are not enumerated ; 
so that no one knows who they are that are joined along 
with him. It is true, they may be ascertained at the En- 
rolment Office — but the clients are seldom acquainted with 
that secret ; besides, they would find, probably, they were 
persons of whom they have no knowledge, and that it 
was of no use. When so many persons are in the same 
deed, if any one choose to be troublesome, he can do 
nothing ; he cannot proceed without the consent of the rest ; 
and taking into consideration the trouble and expense, it is 
the best way to be quiet. 

" Another mode which has, in some instances, been prac- 
tised, is, to threaten the clients to give information to their 
masters of the large sums they acquire in their service, and 
how much they have laid out in annuities. Of course, the 
clients lose their lucrative situations. It was in this way 
that the cook of a noble lord in Mssex lost his situation, 
which brought him some hundreds per annum. In this 
way the servants of a noble baron, whose conduct is little 



198 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON, 

remote from folly, were kept in awe for some time, and at 
last betrayed. This was exceedingly bad policy in the agent ; 
but by this time he was in such a state, that he scarcely 
could be said to have any longer anything to lose. 

" These are some of the arts by which the money-brokers 
inveigle their dupes, to trust them with the disposal of 
their property ; and, having succeeded so far, there are 
fully as many ways by which they cheat them, which, how- 
ever, being comparatively mild and innocent to some other 
practices by which they absolutely rob their victims, may, 
for this line of business, he called honest and honourable. 
The schemes of robbery which they successfully practise 
leave not a wreck behind. 

" Of Cheating the Clients. 

" Avarice is of all passions the blindest ; and were it 
not so, no person would ever advance money to purchase 
annuities. Four per cent, in the Grovernment funds is but a 
poor interest ; but, poor as it is, it will, after all, be foiind to 
be more profitable than the promise of twelve and a-half, 
or fourteen pounds six shillings and eightpence, or even 
sixteen pounds thirteen and fourj)ence, by dealing in an- 
nuities. After paying insurance of the life of the grantor, 
and the expense of transacting the business, and making 
allowance for the numerous instances in which the annuity 
is not paid, it will be found, even where the most careful 
and prudent precaution is taken, the annuities are a source 
of endless trouble, difficulty, and loss. There are also 
numerous modes in which the annuity-broker is able to 
cheat his clients ; and some of these we are now to point 
out. But these are so numerous, that we are quite at a loss 
where to begin and how to arrange. Some are compara- 
tively trivial, but others are absolutely ruinous, as too many 
have found to their cost, 

" At the time when the Income-tax of ten per cent, was 
in force, it was the rule, at a certain great house at the west 
end of the town, to charge this tax ; in other words, to 



I 



LIFE TX AND OUT OF LONDON. 190 

make a deduction from the clients of one-tenth of all monies 
received on their account, on the pretext that it was paid to 
Government, while not so much as sixpence was paid to 
Government, on account of the client's Income-tax, the whole 
of the time. This is a matter the Exchequer might have 
looked to ; but the guilty parties got clear off, although it 
was known to all their clerks, and ultimately to many of the 
clients themselves. 

" When a nobleman or gentleman receives a sum of money 
for an annuity to continue during his life, it is necessary to 
insure the amount of the purchase-money at an insurance 
office, in order that the parties may not lose their capital in 
the event of his death. The annuity-broker gets the insur- 
ance effected ; and from year to year keeps it up, by paying 
the annual premium when it becomes due. There is a system 
of neglecting to pay the premiums, and yet keep on charging 
them to the clients from year to year, the same as if they 
actually were paid. All such charges are marked I. A., 
or interest account, in the books ; which is the private mark 
to shew the transaction. If the annuity happen to be paid 
off by the grantor, the cheat is never discovered, and it is so 
much clearly bagged. If, however, the grantor happen to 
die, it is then found to be a mistake, and that the last year 
it was omitted ; but it is roundly maintained that it was 
always done till then ; and as the annuity-broker refuses to 
tell at what office he insured, the client seldom gets any 
redress beyond having the last year's premium taken off in 
his account. Some cKents have, however, been more reso- 
lute ; and there have been instances in which the annuity- 
broker has been compelled to make good the sum he had 
pretended to keep insured. If this should occur, the whole 
gains obtained by this system are an ample fund to defray 
the loss. 

" When it is supposed that an annuity will not last many 
years, but will be paid off, a policy for seven years is quite 
sufficient, and is usually taken as being at a lower premium ; 
but then the annuity-broker charges to his client the high 



200 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

premium, as if the policy were for the whole life, and he 
pockets the difference. 

" When an annuity is paid off, the interest in the life 
ceases, and, of course, the insurance mvist cease. In that 
case, it is usual to surrender the policy, and get a return 
of premium. If the policy were for a whole life, the rule 
at the Pelican Office was to return one-fourth of all the 
premiums paid, deducting five per cent. ; and, if it were a 
seven years' policy, then to return the proportion of the 
premium for the unexpired portion of the current year of 
the policy. It was a usual custom in a certain annuity 
office, to get the return from the insurance office, but to 
omit giving the clients credit for this return, where there 
was any chance of their not being aware of the custom ; 
and if they afterwards found it out and complained, it was 
easily excused as being an oversight of the clerk ; but, if 
they never found it out, not a word was ever said about the 
matter. 

"As annuities are at any time redeemable on a month's 
notice, by the grantor paying up all arrears, and repaying 
the original purchase-money, the grantee might be Kable to 
have his money for some time lying unemployed upon his 
hand. As a recompense for this, it is usually covenanted 
in the deed that the grantor, in addition to the arrears of 
annuity due, shall also pay a redemption-fine equal to one 
quarter's annuity, and sometimes the redemption-fine is 
made equal to one half-year's annuity. The clients, Avho 
are not aware of this custom, may be cheated out of the 
redemption-fine ; and where they are sufficiently experienced 
to know of the custom, still, when the redemption-fine is 
equal to half a year's annuity, if they find a quarter's annuity 
put to their credit in their account, they will presume every- 
thing is right, and ask no questions. A trifle is to be got 
this way, every now and then. 

" It is a usual practice with an annuity-agent to get the 
deeds drawn so that the annuity is granted to himself, in 
trust for the various parties uniting to advance the consi- 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 201 

deration money. This puts the whole power in his own 
hands, and when the annuity is paid off he can keep the 
matter a secret from the annuitants, and use the money for 
his own purposes, if he should require it ; and he can go on 
with the annuitants as before, crediting them for the annuity, 
and charging his commission, insurance, &c. This would be 
no loss to them, if the agent were safe ; but the parties have 
merely his jDcrsonal security, and annuity agents sometimes 
become bankrupt ; and ^if they can make it out that the 
parties had any reason to beKeve that the annuity had been 
paid off, and that they were recei\'ing the high interest from 
the agent himself, it is declared usury, and the whole is 
forfeited. 

"Of Robbing the Clients. 

" "We have hitherto spoken only of cheating the clients, 
which, in matters of this sort, may be considered as merely 
doing a little business in an honest way ; but we have now 
to proceed to state some of the ways in which they are 
clean robbed, which is going a little too far. The most 
general and comprehensive mode is, to lay out the client's 
money on bad security ; and the motives for doing this 
may be very readil}^ conceived : but these are deeds of 
more than usual darkness, and it is not to be supposed that 
their form and feature can be distinctly traced. Some Kght 
may be thrown on the subject from the following facts. A 
patriot member of a great assembly, and who has often been 
seen at Boston, and had dealt largely in granting annuities, 
sent a letter to an asrent, of which the substance was — 
' Raise me twenty thousand pounds, and I will give you the 
half of the money to yourself.' Another gentleman, who 
was much in want of (/old, called at the same office, and, 
without any blushing, made a similar proposal to the clerks, 
the principal being from home, and desired them to com- 
mvmicate the matter to their principal, on his return. In 
the winter of 1820, a letter from an agent to a grantor was 
produced on a trial at Westminster, in which the agent said 
he had raised for him a great many thousands, when he 



202 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

had no security at all to offer, and he ought to feel under 
high obligation to him. The motive, therefore, the influ- 
ence of which induces to lay out the client's money on bad 
security, it is not difficult to imagine. The profits in effect- 
ing any annuity are large, and by the above it will readily 
be seen that the worse the security, the greater the profits 
are. And, take all in all, no grantor so readily parts with 
the gold as a grantor who gets a day's rule to come out of 
the King's Bench to execute the deeds. 

" Robbery in the name of friendship. — The usual mode, 
when an agent has got a desperately bad annuity to offer 
to his client, is to say to him — ' Now, my dear Sir, I was 
just going to send to you. I have kept for you a share of 
the finest thing that ever was in the world — excellent 
security — as good as the Bank of England ! It is merely 
changing bank notes for guineas. Eleven per cent, clear, 
after paying insurance and commission. But pray do not 
say anything about it — I shall be annoyed on every side 
for it, and I have no more to give away.' The particulars 
of the annuity being thus introduced, if the client make 
any hesitation, the answer is, ' Pray don't take it, if you 
have the least objection to it — I only kept it for you, as my 
particular friend ; but if you prefer anything else, by no 
means touch it — there will be hundreds after it.' This 
drowns all opposition, and the client is diddled to put his 
money into a security which may, perhaps, turn out a clean 
dead robbery. 

" The worst annuity usuallj^ pays for the first quarter, 
and some very bad ones have been known to pay for the 
first year, and then they fall into arrear, and, perhaps, no 
more is ever got from them. But sometimes, after an an- 
nuity has done no good for two or three years, to the sur- 
prise of all the parties concerned, the arrears are paid up. 
Now that happens in this way : — If the parties who have 
shares in this annuity be persons who have a great deal of 
money, and they have become discontented, and threaten 
to lay no more out on annuities, it may be deemed advis- 
able to pay up ; and this is done by raising a sum of money 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 203 

from another set of fiats, for the grantor, and with tho 
money so raised the arrears are paid off, and there is a 
comfortable residumn to the grantor for barely signing the 
parchments ; and the agent, as usual on such occasions, 
takes care not to forget himself. 

" Immense sums are laid out on a pretended security. 
To give an instance : — There is a fellow of a College, who 
was entitled to an income in money from his fellowship of 
about £120 a-year. This fellow, for so he may properly be 
termed, frequented the turf and certain houses in the parish 
of St James's. He could play his cards well, and thoroughly 
understood how to rattle the dice-box. But this is an ex- 
pensive mode of life, and fortune does not always favour 
the brave. The money agent, accordingly, was his resource ; 
and no doubt such a man would pay liberally for raising a 
present supply. He was represented to be a gentleman 
possessed of immense College preferment, and as having a 
life interest in extensive College lands, which were a security 
equal to anything. Accordingly, the money was raised for 
him, and he was a regular dealer for several years. By 
raising the wind to pay off arrears, when other resources 
were not to be had, and by applying the produce of good 
luck and skilful play to redeem some of his annuities, he 
obtained a great character amongst the clients as a very 
good and safe man. This served him to good purpose on 
a future day, and money was raised on annuity to the 
amount of £20,000 ; but how much of this he pocketed, 
and how much the agent retained for himself, is best known 
to themselves. But the fellow is now abroad, and the an- 
nuitants, some of them poor widows, who ventured their 
last shilling, will probably never get another farthing. 
Even the trifling produce of the fellowship is not attachable, 
being like a parson's living and an officer's pay. This 
instance will be sufficient to explain the system. 

" Immense sums are laid out on very small securities. 
Sometimes, plate and jewels are deposited, to be kept as a 
security for the payment of the annuity. The agent will 



204 LIFE IN ANP OUT OF LONDON. 

represent the plate as being five times more valuable than 
it is, and the jewels as equal to the wealth of Golconda. 
These treasures are shown to the clients, and as such things 
are tempting, five or ten times the value will be raised on 
the security. If all are in one deed, then they go share and 
share alike in the loss ; but if they come in different deeds, 
subsequent to one another — Woe to the hindmost. 

" Good securities are overloaded. A noble lord, whose 
ill-regulated sporting propensities and annuity selling had 
brought him into great difficulties, was induced to make 
over the whole of his estates to trustees, for the purpose of 
liquidating his debts, reserving to himself a net £5000 a- 
year, upon which to live. Another man would have en- 
deavoured to exist upon that sum, and in time his estates 
would have been disencumbered, and he might then have 
provided for his numerous family, and lived in increased 
splendour — but such was not the decree of Fate. On the 
strength and security of this £5000 a-year, he must raise 
more money by way of annuity ; and he and the agent to- 
gether loaded this £5000 a-year with a burden of upwards 
of £7000 a-year — "Woe to the hindmost ! 

" Certain lands in the west of England were valued by a 
surveyor, and reported upon oath to yield about £5400 a- 
year ; but it has since been found, that betwixt deceptions 
practised on the surveyor, and the fall of rents, there is a 
material reduction, and £3000 a-year is the full net rental. 
These lands were overloaded, even if the first rental had 
been correct ; and as much money was raised upon their 
security as required £7000 a-year to meet. For the first 
payments, money was obtained by putting an execution in 
the gentleman's house ; but as that source has since failed 
— Woe to the hindmost ! 

" Of Cheating and Robbing the Grantors. 

" The system of annuities is very ruinous in its nature to 
whoever gets involved in it ; for, even if we imagine it to 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 205 

be possible that an annuity-broker could be an honest man, 
still the high interest of 12|, 14f, and 16| per cent, is so 
destructive of property, in addition to all costs and charges, 
that it must lead to ruin. This is, however, so palpable, 
that a man must see it with his own eyes ; and if he do not 
see it already, it is of no iise to jDoint it out, for he must be 
destitute of the faculty of vision. But there are various 
modes of cheating and robbing noblemen and gentlemen 
who fall into the usurer's den, which it is excusable in them 
not to be aware of, and some of these we shall point out. 

" Enormous charge of raising the annuity. Ten per 
cent, on the gross sura raised, or consideration-money, was 
the regular charge at a celebrated office : and it was reckoned 
a much more genteel way of doing business than making out 
a long bill like a tailor. In cases where a very large sum 
was raised of £40,000 or £50,000, and the grantor was very 
hard to deal with, as low a charge as nine per cent, has been 
agreed upon. This was not all clear profit to the agent, for 
there was the expense of the stamps, engrossing the deeds, 
and other matters ; but still, making these deductions, it left 
a very handsome profit, and it was a great reduction of the 
sum to be received by the grantor. So that, when he bar- 
gained to give the clients the 12^ per cent., it was, in fact, 
14 per cent, on the sum actually received ; and where he was 
to give 14|- per cent., it was, in reality, 16 per cent, on the 
sum received; and where he bargained to give 16| per cent., 
it was, in reality, 18J per cent, ; and then, in addition to 
arrears and redemption-fine, he had to pay the consideration - 
money mentioned in his deed, which was £10 for every £9 
which he had received. 

" It is true that it is now decided that such a system of 
bargaining and charging is illegal ; and if a nobleman or 
gentleman will disgrace himself in a court of law, he may 
get redress ; but many persons have been aware of this long 
ago, and, in general, solicitors take a more careful way of 
going to work. Their system is to charge no more for rais- 
ing the annuity than the 10 per cent, allowed by the Act 



206 LIFE IN AXD OUT OF LONDON. 

of Parliament, but then they make out a reguhir bill of costs; 
they charge for attendances and consultations, for perusing 
and examining papers and deeds to decide on the security, 
for drawing deeds, engrossing copies, and so forth ; so that 
they make a monstrous and frightful bill, amounting to such 
a sum that the grantor is not any the better for the law put- 
ting it out of his power to make a bargain for a fixed sum at 
once. 

" Where a small sum only is raised, the charge is quite 
enormous. A jjoor man in Chelsea was hard driven for 
money, and came to an old usurer to get a supply. He had 
immediately £50 on account, and an annuity deed was soon 
drawn up, in which, for £196 consideration-money, he bound 
himself to pay £28 a-year during his life. But when the 
business came to be concluded, he was astounded at finding 
a bill of costs of £46 brought against him for raising the 
money, and the deeds. It was in vain he fell on his knees, 
and pleaded his own distress, and that of a large family. 
Contempt and insult were all he received : and he was 
threatened to be arrested for the £50 he had had advanced 
to him. He had no help but to execute the deeds, and take 
his £100, which, with the £50 he had had, and the £46 for 
costs, made the whole £196. Thus, in reality, he borrowed 
£150 at the rate of 18| per cent., and could not get clear but 
by paying all arrears and £203, being consideration money, 
and one quarter's redemption-fine, together with all legal 
costs and charges attending the transaction. 

" It will thus appear, the agent reduces the grantor into 
bis power by making him a small advance. The small sum 
received does not relieve the necessities of the grantor, and 
as he has no ready means of repaying it, he is in the power 
of the agent. Hence he must submit to all iniquitous de- 
mands for costs, and also to such terms and rate per cent, as 
the agent pleases. Thus he is promised at first that the 
money will be got at 10 per cent., but he finds, when he 
comes to execute, that he has to pay 14|. per cent., receiving 
only seven years' purchase instead of ten. 



LIFE IX AND OITT OF LONDON. 207 

" It ought not to be supposed that when an agent makes 
an advance of money, whilst the annuity deed is in prepara- 
tion, that he does it without security, or for the love of 
God. It is done by one of the clerk's drawing a bill, which 
the party accepts, and then it is discounted, and at the 
usurer's rate of 10 per cent. This some people will say is 
illegal — but such people know very little about the matter. 
If there be any reason to dread that the customer will be 
troublesome, there is always a third party into whose hands 
the bill is put, who will do whatever is needful to enforce its 
pa}Tnent, and it is of no use to resist it, and there will be no 
means of proving that the third party has had any concern 
in the usury. 

" If application be made for money, and the applicant 
soon after send word he can do without it, he will not escape 
without a bill of costs. A sporting gentleman applied to an 
agent for £3000, and put into his hands certain deeds which 
he proposed as securities, and went off immediately for 
Newmarket. Happening to lay on the winning horse, he 
netted such a sum as made it unnecessary for him to grant 
the annuity, and he accordingly wrote off immediately to 
town, to stop all expenses — but that was of no use. The 
deeds had never been looked at, but immediately after the 
letter was received, they were examined, and a bill of costs, 
with fees for counsellor's opinion, was made out to the amount 
of £20, and this was paid on the restoration of the deeds. 

" Capt. applied to raise £1900, and afterwards 

declined to complete, but he was made to pay £260, for 
deeds and costs. 

" This was done in the case of a Capt. , who 

granted an annuity of which the Marquis of was 

the collateral security. But the agent happening to quarrel 
with one of his clerks, the secret was divulged to the Mar- 
quis ; and he, knowing the advantage he thus possessed, set 
the agent at defiance, when he applied for the money, and 
the agent did not dare to proceed for fear of consequences. 
The proper mode of guarding against such tricks, is to ob- 
tain an attested copy of the deed ; but noblemen and gentle- 



208 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

men, who sign deeds often without hearing them read over, 
and always ^dthout seeing whether they are read correctly, 
are not the men to do things as they ought to be done. 

■ Reading over one deed to the grantor, and then substi- 
tuting another, which he signs, supposing it to be the same 
which he had just heard read, is a dexterous piece of sleight 
of hand, which is wonderfully creditable, and, after all, not 
very difficult. It is only for one of the clerks to come to the 
door, and interrupt the parties as soon as the reading is about 
finished ; the agent, in haste, runs to the door to see what 
is the matter, with the deed in his hand, and returns with a 
different deed, but exactly resembling the first in aj)pearance. 

" Great talent must be employed in making out a grantor's 
account. A young nobleman or gentleman, who spends 
his time in the society of horses, dogs, gamblers, and loose 
women — who raises one sum of money on the back of 
another — who raises temporary accommodation, by accept- 
ing bills — and keej)s no accomit himself of what he signs 
or does — is not very able to understand his own account, or 
to recollect so much of the transactions as to be able to check 
it. Still the account must be made out in a proper and some- 
what decent manner, to bear inspection, in case it should so 
happen that it was put in better hands than his own. A 
moderate degree of talent and conscience in the clerk is 
desirable, and may be rendered highly productive. 

" Some grantors are at last brought to that state of degra- 
dation and infamy, that they become mere tools of the 
monej'-agents ; and fortune, fame, and reputation, are all 
lost, for the dirty w^ages of iniquity which he pays to those 
who prostitute themselves to his service. They put their 
names to bills, and employ their time and talents to raise 
money upon them, for the joint purposes of both parties." 

" I could relate," observed Logic, " numerous other cases 
equally important with those you are now acquainted with ; 
but, I hope, the few I have pointed out to your notice will 
suffice. - Therefore, Splinter, be on your guard ; avoid all 
further intercourse with Old Screw : and, as ray last re- 
quest, keep out of the ( LrTcin:s of .s7^(7/ money-lenders !" 



CHAPTER IX. 

Corinthian Kate's residence : unexpecfed arrival of Tom : 
t/ieinconstanci/qfKATEdctccted, and /ter separation from 
tJie Corinthian. The consequences of neglect in matters of 
attachment. Grief displayed hij Tom on the improper con- 
duct of his Mistress; but there is a time for everything. A 
change of scene necessary. Life in the East. Tom, Logic, 
and Jerry, called to the Bar by the Benchers. The John 
Bull Fighter e.rhibiting his cups; and the "uncommonly 
hig Gentleman" highly amused ivith the surrounding group. 
From the seat of nar to the lap of lore. Dangerous to be 
safe ; or, the abrupt departure. Jane Merrythought at 
her ni't's end. Lady "Wanton's repufafion in danger, and 
Jerry compelled to retreat. Flirtation versus Inconstancy ; 
both of the heroes at fault, get nothing verg uncommon in 
Life in London. 

Corinthian Tom, like too many other men of high fashion 
had become rather neglectful in his visits towards Kate ; 
and although not absolutely tired of his once idol, his dearest 
girl, nay, more, his tout, yet he had cooled considerably in 
his degrees of attachment towards her person. His purse 
was still at the service of Corinthian Kate ; her wants 
were also supplied with an unsparing hand ; but it was 
evident that this fascinating woman now ranked only as 
a secondary consideration in his mind. It is true that 
Kate had not absolutely '* outlived his liking ; " but it 
was only when he had no other place or person particularly 
to visit, that her residence claimed his attention. This cool- 
ness had long been noticed by Kate ; but her pride, although 
inwardly wounded, would not let her remonstrate with the 
Corinthian on account of his neglect. But she treasured 
it up in silence, and determined, the first opportimity that 



I 



210 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LOXDOX. 



offered itself, to be revenged for such treatment. Attfn- 
fion she must have, and affeiition she would have. A fine 
woman, indeed, like Corixthiax Kate, to be treated with 
contempt ! No, no I flesh and blood could not bear it. 
She, therefore, looked out for attention from other quarters. 
But the confidence of Tom had not yet been shaken ; and, 
in all probability, the connection might have 7;o//Ye/^ dragged 
on for some j^ears, had not the following unexpected cir- 
cumstance put an end to it. FaiDu/, the waiting -maid 
of Kate, having been detected in a faux pas, and being 
somewhat severely reprimanded for it by her mistress, de- 
termined, the first opportunity that offered, to gratify 
her revenge, by exposing the conduct of Corixthian Kate 
to Tom ; and she therefore sent to him the following 
letter : — 

" Sir, — I am sorry to inform yoxi, thut Miss Corinthian Kate is 
untrue to you. She loves another — and your rival is now in her com- 
pany. Your confidence has been for some time past very much 
abused; and your bounty also squandered away upon others. Come 
this evening, Sir, without fail. Give but one knock at the door ; no 
suspicion will then be excited in my mistress. I will be in readiness, 
and let you in. I have been deceived in Miss Kate ; you have also 
been grossly deceived : but I cannot conceal such duplicity any longer 
from the most liberal of masters. 

" Sir, I am your humble servant, 

" Faxxy . 

" Corintliian Tmn, Ef.cj." 

Upon the receipt of this unexpected epistle, the rage of 
Tom knew no bounds ; and he obej^ed the summons of 
Kate's waiting-maid like lightnine:. But his choler was so 
great that he had hardly patience to obey her orders. How- 
ever, the bare idea of a rival was quite enough to excite his 
resentment. He gave the single gentle knock at the door — 
was up the first flight of stairs in an instant, and pounced 
upon Kate and her gallant so suddenly, as to leave no 
doubt in his mind of her inconstancy. The unexpected 
appearance of Tom operated like an electric shock upon 
the feelings of Kate and her gallant ; and, notwithstanding 
her pride and arrogance, she was nearly petrified with fear. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 211 

Pier gallant, as the plate represents, endeavoured to con- 
ceal himself, in the best manner he could, behind the cur- 
tains ; but his military hat and gloves, left upon the carpet, 
betrayed symptoms of guilt, too strong to be confuted. 
The agitation of Toji was excessive ; and the idea of a 
rival suj)planting him before his face, almost drove him to 
madness. On recovering a little from his astonishment, ho 
exclaimed to Kate : — " Is this the return you make to me. 
Madam, for my kindness and liberality towards you? But 
explanation is unnecessary ; your base conduct admits of no 
defence, and I shall now take my leave of you for ever ! " 
Kate, who was more vexed at Ijeing surprised with her 
gallant, than feeling anything like sorrow for the indis- 
cretion itself, replied, with the utmost haughtiness of manner, 
" There is no terror in your threats. Sir, I assure you ; I 
heed them not. Leave me when you think proper ; but 
the sooner the better. I can be well provided for to-morrow, 
and not experience neglect. It is all your own fault." 
" Inconstant woman ! Ungrateful creature ! " replied To.m, 
visibly affected, and qviitted the house without uttering 
another syllable. 

Corinthian Kate, like most kept mistresses, had two 
strings to her bow, and she did not endure any real sorrow 
for the detection. Her new admirer was a gay Captain ; 
extremely rich ; quite enamoured with Kate, and posi- 
tively could not refuse her anything she wished. Kate, 
therefore, quitted the residence appointed for her by Tom, 
with the most j)erfect indifference. She valued herself 
upon her fine figure, beauty, and accomplishments ; and 
flattered herself it was not too late in the day for her to 
make numerous conquests. 

Tom hastily returned to Connthian House, completely 
disgusted with the scene he had witnessed at the residence 
of Kate ; and, in the heat of his revenge, resolutely deter- 
mined to banish all recollection of his once-beloved mistress 
from his mind, and never, no, never, under any circum- 
stances, to think of, or speak to her any more during his 



212 



LIFE IN AMD OUT OF LONDON. 



lifetime. The irritation he displayed at her inconstancy, 
ingratitude, and hauteur, was so great, that almost " for an 
apple " he would have " damned all mankind." His feel- 
ings indeed were so much disordered, that he did not re- 
cover the shock for several days ; and all the persuasions 
of Jerry, Logic, and the "uncommonly big Gentleman," 
united, could not prevail on him to quit the house. But 
Tom found it was easier to plan than to execute ; and, in 
spite of the inconstancy of Kate, he found it a work of 
greater difficulty, when in solitude, than he had previously 
imagined in his moments of passion — to erase all impressions 
of the once-admired Kate from his memory. But Time, that 
great reliever of the mind, that general cure for grief and 
sorrow, ultimately restored Tom once more to himself ; and, 
although it was not his boast that he had entirely forgotten 
the graces of the once splendid Corinthian Kate, yet he 
had gained confidence enough to give her the " cut direct," 
and the proud, imperious Kate was left to her fate. 

In the course of a few days, the frolicsome party were 
again under sailing orders, in search after new scenes and 
adventures. Sir John Blubber proposed to our heroes 
another visit to his Snuggery : " But," said he, " Jerry, be 
on your guard this time, and keep out of mischief." " Do 
not repeat old grievances," replied Logic ; " but take care of 
yourself, and leave Tom and Jerry to do the best they can 
for themselves. We shall accept of your friendly invitation ; 
and, as I am aware that Jerry is rather partial to the 
Fancy, and he has not been at any of their meetings since 
his arrival in town, we cannot do better than give the John 
Bull Fighter a turn, in Leadenhall Market, in our road to 
the Tower." " I must confess," replied Jerry, " that I am 
very partial to Pugilism ; and I feel confident, in a national 
point of view, that Boxing tends greatly to support and pro- 
mote that sort of true courage, which has so distinguished 
the English nation from time immemorial. I am anxious to 
visit the John Bull Fighter's house ; therefore, let us be off 
without loss of time." 

On their arrival at the ILtlf Moon Tap, whicli the an- 



i 



UFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 21-3 

nexed plate faithfully represents, our heroes expressed their 
approbation of the Silver Cup given to Jonh. Hudson by the 
friends of true courage ; " and, as we have been called to 
the Bar," said Logic, " let us be brief on the matter, and 
get into practice as quick as we can. Therefore, Jos//., fill 
the cup with the right sort of staff", that we may all drink 
out of it." " Me like a cup," said Josh.'s black boxer, hold- 
ing up his fists. " A silver cup be a damn goot ting for 
massa. Must be a good hit to make de cup by one blow. 
Me will hit 'em hard for a cup, w^hen next me fights." 
" This is the ^ro- for life and fun," observed Logic; "and 
many learned law^yers might be cross-examined at the 
above stop with the most ludicrous effect ; and their chops 
cat up in good style by the stickers to knock-down argu- 
ment. And, I will bet a trifle, the most knowing of the 
gents, of the long robe would not have a jmjit the best of 
those chaff-cutters. There are no idle moments at this 
Crib," continued Locnc ; "and the entrances and exits are of 
the most original description. The John Ball Fighter and 
his helpmates are all upon the bustle, from peep of day 
until the Scout proclaims ' all's well ! ' at eleven ; and the 
different scenes to be witnessed here are often as diverting 
as an excellent comed3\ The points of law, points of the 
game, and points of humour, afford arguments throughout 
the day for most of the visitors ; and the jolly host is most 
anxious not to \o%e ix. point upon any subject. The wit of 
the stage, produced by the numerous dragsmen taking their 
morning u-hets, frequently creates roars of laughter ; the 
slang remarks of the commoners in tossing off their drams ; 
and the inquiries of the Stcclls, after the movements in the 
Sporting World, over their glasses of sherry, make the thing 
not only complete, but a fine picture of real life in a pecu- 
liar point of view : and fingering the blunt into the bargain. 
In looking round you," said the Oxonian, " you may be 
perfectly satisfied that titles and riches are not the principal 
ingredients towards happiness in this life ; you may likewise 
witness independence of mind to the very echo — the true 
English feeling among these sort of folks — a kind of win 
gold and wear it. Their notions are so jolly, that if a Duke 



214 I.IFE IN AM) OUT OI' LONDON. 

were to come it too strong at this Bar, as to his superior 
situation in society, he would stand a good chance to be 
taken down a peg, without the slightest fear as to the con- 
sequences. No persons are more industrious, or strive 
harder to get an honest penny, than the market-people ; 
they rise earlj^, work hard, enjoy themselves, and cart for 
nobody : and of the liberty of the subject they are tena- 
cious in the extreme." 

The Corinthian, who never did things by halves, 
ordered the cup to be filled with Champagne, and presented 
to Jerry, who immediately drank the health of " Mine host ! 
and success to Boxing on national principles." This senti- 
ment was repeated by the fat Knight ; and Tom and Logic 
also did honour to the toast. The history of the Ring was 
entered into with great spirit by the whole of the party, and 
the talents and capabilities of the different Pugilists were 
descanted upon by Tom with his usual knowledge of men 
and manners. The Corinthian related the following 
anecdote with much humour : — " Your Black, Jos/i.," said 
Tom, " reminds me of the days of Moijneaux. After the 
period of that sab/e hero, who had made so tremendous a 
hit in the Milling World, you remember, Logic, the verse of 
the following song, which the late Jack Emery, of Covent 
Garden Theatre, used to chaunt with such glee : — 

You gentleman of fortune attend unto my ditty 

A few lines I have penn'd upon this grent fight, 
In the centre of England, the noble place is pitch'd on, 
For the valour of this country, or AmeriuCs delight ; 
The sturdy Black doth swear, 
The moment he gets there. 
The planks the stage is built on, he'll make them blaze and smoke; 
Then Cribb, with smiling face. 
Says, ' These boards I'll ne'er disgrace, 
They're rdutiuns of iniue, they're Old English Oak.' 

— the boxers in general were upon the alert to pick up 
another man of colour, to supply his place in the P.R., and 
also as a profitable source of sjjeculation, Tom Olirer 
always kept a good look-out for a strikiiKj subject, and 



l.TFK IN AND ()I!T ()l- LONDON. 'J I ■") 

whenever To))i met a Black in the streets, who appeared to 
have some nit'I/i/ir/ requisites about his person, Tom immedi- 
ately introduced himself to the stranger, and also invited 
him to partake of some good cheer at his lush crib in West- 
minster. The first thing was a good blow-out, to make the 
' visit pleasant ; ' and then, upon the removal of the cloth, 
the trial scene with the gloves. Sam Robinson, who fought 
several battles in the P.R., was picked up in this manner ; 
but the judgment of Tom often proved incorrect, and he 
w'as frequently compelled to turn-up his street acquaintances, 
who could not stand cutting-iq), with the loss of his grub 
and lieanj wet. In one of Ohrcr's peregrinations through 
the streets of London, he met with a fine slashing Yankee 
Black : Tom was very much pleased with his form, and 
flattered himself a second MoLiNEArx was at hand. With- 
out hesitation, Tom Oliver entered into conversation with 
him on the subject ; told the man of colour, if he would 
attend to his instructions, he might soon make a little for- 
tune, and invited him, as usual, home to dinner. ' Tanky, 
massa,' replied the sable hero, ' me like the chink ; very 
goot for poor Black y — me do every ting you biddy me." 
Tom in a great hurry got home, ordered his affectionate rib 
to produce the rump steaks for his guest without loss of 
time : and the grub and the bub were soon afterwards on the 
table, to furnish the Victualling Office of the hungry over- 
joyed Black. ' If they can grub well,' said Oliver, ' I am 
satisfied it is a gotd point towards milling well; but if a 
cove can't j;f(7i, I would not give much for him as a fighting 
man.' 

" Blacky punished the steaks, swallowed all the potatoes, 
and took the lining out of a quart of porter, like winking. 
' Well done,' cries Tom, ' by heavens ! you are a fine grub- 
ber ! ' The Black blushed at this remark, and unfortunately 
giving a glance at Oliver's face, the latter, in an instant, 
recollected he had seen his black mug before, at his friendly 
board ; and starting up, not exactly after the elegant man- 
ner of Hamlet, alarmed at the appearance of his father's 
ghost, but placing himself in a fighting attitude, exclaimed, 



216 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

in an angry tone of voice, ' Why, blow my dickey ! you are 
the same impostor that devoured my beef- steaks and other 
comforts six months ago ; and when I gave you only a 
gentle tap on your guts, you roared out ten thousand 
murders ! Bolt ! brush ! begone ! and never let me see 
your ugly black mug any more ; or else I will have my 
beef-steaks out of your hide ! '* The Black, trembling, and 
scarcely knowing how to make his exit with anything like 
safety to his person, cried out, ' Me go directly, Massa 
Olirer ; but you wrong, very wrong, to say only gentle 
tap ! No ! no ! more like de kick of de great big cart-horse ! 
My belly never been well since — it growl all day — growl 
all night — growl ever since ! Me go, massa — I am gone. 
Me always say, I do as you biddy me.' It is needless to 
observe," said the Corinthian, " that the Black was glad 
to escape in a whole skin." " Bravo ! " exclaimed Jerry ; 
" I never heard a better anecdote in my life." The cup 
was again filled, and milling toasted to the end of the 
chapter. The evening passed off so pleasantly that the 
^miggerij was entirely forgotten ; and the party did not 
quit the John Bull Fighter's crib until daylight appeared. 

During the time of breakfast, the next morning, the fol- 
lowing letter was put into the hands of Jerry, by the 
Corinthian's footman : — 



" Sir, — I have kept my promise, and if you are discreet all will go 
on well ; but if you are impetuous and imprudent, I will not answer 
for the consequences. You must entirely abide by my directions. 
Your hilkt-dvux I placed on my lady's toilet. Her ladyship did not 
appear to be out of humour with the compliments you paid to her 
talents and person ; but she said, ' your presumption in soliciting an 
interview at her house ought to be checked : and that she never would 
forgive herself for such an act of indiscretion.' But I know her lady- 
ship better than she knows herself : her opinions vary with the hour. 
Leave the rest to me. Sir Richard is out of town, and I do not know 
when such an opportunity may occur again. Call this evening ; her 
ladyship will be all alone — and I will risk an introduction for you. 
l5o punctual. Eight o'clock. The coast will be clear : and I will be 
in readiness to receive you. — I remain. Sir, Your humble servant, 

" Jaxe Merrythought. 

*^ Jerry flaivt/inin, Enq.'' 



LIFE IN AMI OUT OF LONDON. 217 

" Charming Merrythought ! " exclaimed Jerry, fold- 
ing up the letter, and securing it in his escritoir, " I was 
almost afraid that she had forgotten me : but I love her, if 
it is only for the ingenuity she displaj^s in matters of this 
kind. Her head is always at work ; she plans like a gene- 
ral ; and I hope her mode of attack will prove successful. 
However, I shall place myself entirely at the disposal of 
this little sprig of intrigue ; and I flatter myself that sur- 
prise or danger will be out of the question." Jerry thought 
every minute an hour, until the appointed time arrived that 
his dear little Merrythought was to procure him an 
interview with the attractive, dashing, flirting Lady Wan- 
ton. 

Our hero set himself off to the best advantage ; or, as the 
term goes, he endeavoured to make himself look as agree- 
able and interesting as possible ! and as fast as a coach 
could rattle him over the stones, he was exact to his time 
at the residence of Lady Wanton. Miss MERRYTHOUGHr 
was on the alert to receive him, at the garden gate ; and 
Jerry', paying attention to the cue of his fair conductress, 
was through the hall in an instant, up one flight of stairs 
like lightning, and ushered into the presence of Lady 
Wanton, without the knowledge of any person in the 
house except herself — so cleverly had Jane accomplished 
her task. Merrythought was completely in the con- 
fidence of her mistress ; nay, she might be termed the right 
hand of her Ladyship in all affairs of this kind ; she had, 
therefore, previously given her Ladyship an intimation that 
Mr. Hawthorn would do himself the honour of a call, in 
order to obtain the pardon of her Ladyship, for the supposed 
affront he had given her at Bath, although he was uncon- 
scious of having committed the slightest offence. 

" Merry'thought, what have you done ? " exclaimed 
her Ladyship ; " how could you be so thoughtless as to 
introduce this young man into my presence, without my 
approbation ? " " Your Ladyship," said Jerry, in the most 
soothing manner, " I hope will pardon Merrythough r, 



218 LIFE IX AND OUT OF LOXDON. 

and ratlier censure my rashness to obtain an interview, 
after such numerous disappointments, with Lady Wanton, 
than complain of want of attention on the part of your 
waiting- woman." jNIerrythgught, who was an adept in 
these matters, and being well assured it was all a subter- 
fuge on the part of her mistress, stole away, to use a 
sporting phrase, and left Jerry and Lady "Wanton, to 
settle the matter in dispute between them ! " Then, young 
man," replied Lady Wanton, endeavouring to assume an 
angry tone, " such rashness must be punished ; and if you 
do not instantly quit this apartment, I shall ring the bell, 
and give orders to my footman to shew you the door." 
" Did your Ladyship call ? " said Merrythought, opening 
the door. " I thought I heard your Ladyship say you 
wanted the footman — but all the men-servants are out." 
At the same time giving a significant look at Jerry to 
ttike the hint, and not to be alarmed, for it was all trick 
^:ndi finesse of her Ladyship. 

Jerry was quite in possession of the real character 
of Lady Wanton, not only by common report in the 
Fashionable World, as one of the greatest flirts in the 
kingdom, but her waiting-maid had also let him into the 
secret, that her Ladyship was made up of art. To be 
flattered by the men was her delight, and she swallowed 
their praises by wholesale ; she kept them dangling after 
her train for months, all in anxious expectation, and then 
laughed at them for being fools. Revenge was, therefore, 
sweet to our hero ; and he thought no time was to be lost, 
but to seize the golden, glorious opportunity to lay the 
train well, and by making his gradual approaches secure, 
ultimately carry the citadel by storm . " Do not pronounce 
my banishment, dear lady," said Jerry, " before you have 
heard my story ! Be not inexorable, but let me beg you 
to relax a little from your severity of manner towards one 
of your sincerest admirers. Come, fair lady, let me entreat 

" " I ought not to listen to you at all," answered 

Jjady Wanton, in a less severe tone of voice ; " but if you 
promise to behave as a gentleman, I may be induced to 



LIFE IX AM) OIT OF I.OXDOX. 21!! 

hear what you have to say ; but I am afraid, Sir, you are 
oue of those young- boasters of the clay, who, if a hidy only 
gives them a civil answer, it is magnified by them into 
favours of the last description, and the reputation of a lady 
deemed of little consequence." " Dear lady, do not think 
so meanly of my pretensions. I wovdd sooner lose my life, 
than disgrace myself as a lover of the fair sex, and tarnish 
my character as a man of honour. Since- 1 first saw your 
beautiful form at the Masquerade, I have been your most 
passionate and sincere admirer, nay, your slave ; but your 
more than interesting, lovely face now rivets my chains 
stronger than ever : also take into your consideration your 
cruel treatment tome at Bath, and remember your promise I " 

" Promise, Sir," said Lady Waxtox, " I do not recollect 
any promise ; you are now^ presuming, indeed. Promise I 
What did I promise ? " " To make me happy ! " replied 
Jerry, " to compensate in some degree for all the unhappy 
hours you have been the cause of, to my aspiring soul. 
Did I not expound your almost inexplicable riddle at the 
Masquerade ? Did I not, at your entreaty, let you depart 
without a remonstrance ? And did I not acquiesce in your 
request to be gone, when Sir Richard was in view ? But 
come, my charming Lady AVaxtox, do not let us lose the 
glorious opportunity, which now so kindly presents itseK to 
make me hapj:)}' ; cast aside all further co^Tiess, and behold 
your devoted slave ! " Throwing himself down upon one 
knee, and seizing hold of her hand, he kissed it with the 
utmost rapture, and was proceeding, mns ceremonie, to 
obtain a chaste salute of her ruby lips. " Stop, stop a bit. 
Sir ; not quite so fast, if you please," said Lady Wanton, 
relaxing from her austerity of manner. " Were I inclined 
to believe you are sincere in your declaration, the citadel is 
not to be taken by storm ; sword in hand will never do to 
obtain from me a capitulation. No, no ! " with a most 
fascinating look, " the fortress must surrender at discretion. 
I must have some further proof of your sincerity than 
mere assertion. Give me a specimen of your good conduct 
this evening, and, at another opportunity, you may, per- 



220 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON, 

haps, stand higher in my opinion. You are too impetuous ; 
you are a complete Sportsman, in every point of view ; 
nothing seems to imj)ede your progress ; and neither hedge 
nor ditch are obstacles to your pursuit. The General is for 
a vigorous attack, as the only sure mode of success ; the 
Sportsman follows his bird with unabated activity ; but the 
Lover pursues a more mild, endearing course, to obtain 
victory." " Only teach me, fair lady," said Jerry, " the 
way to obtain your approbation, and you shall find me a 
most apt and attentive scholar. Under such an accom- 
jilished mistress, I must rapidly succeed. Believe me, my 
dear Lady Wanton, I am sincerely in love with you." 

" Do not talk nonsense ! " replied her Ladj^ship ; " neither 
be rude nor offensive ; and do not meanly take advantage of 
your present situation. Sit down, Sir, and behave like a 
gentleman ; converse on such topics that I can listen to 
you with pleasure, and convince me that Jerry Ham"^- 
THORN, Esq., is a person of mind, as well as a man of the 
world. If you do not attend to my instructions, beware of 
the consequences ; one word from me expels you from the 
house in an instant, never more to return. Therefore be 
wise, be prudent." At the conclusion of her Ladyship's 
speech, Jerry was almost at a standstill — he ajjpeared 
quite confused, and at a loss how to proceed. He wanted 
little Merrythougld at his elbow. Indeed, the talents of 
Lady Wanton were of too superior a description for our 
hero ; she was too great an adept at intrigue ; a flirt to the 
end of the chapter ; and her pride, boast, and glory was to 
ensnare the fellows, and then afterwards laugh at them for 
their folly. " My dear Lady Wanton," replied Jerry, on 
recovering from his surprise, and endeavouring to put a 
good face upon the matter, " surely, you cannot be serious ; 
you have almost chilled my blood with your remark, laid 
down with as much gravity as a judge upon the bench, 
passing sentence of death upon a poor unhappy criminal. 
But, a truce to this moralizing — your Ladyshij) is jesting 
with me. Let the evening be dedicated to pleasure and 
happiness ; treat me as I deserve ; and if I unfortunately 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 221 

should offend j'our Ladyship, I will most readily submit to 
any punishment you may think proper to inflict on me, for 
not adhering to your grave, wise, and admonitory counsels." 
" Agreed ! " said her Ladyship, putting her fan before her 
face, in order to conceal her smiles at the satiric manner 
with which Jerry had treated her icould-be grave remarks 
on the score of propriety : — 

Then the lover, 

Sighing like a furnace, with woeful ballad, 

Made to his mistress' eyebrow. 

The long-wished period to the Lover, yet so difficult to 
accomplish, had now arrived, and Jerry found himself tete- 
a-tete with the fascinating Lady Wanton, and without the 
fear of interruption. The gay, lively, shrewd Merrythought 
took her station at the out-posts, to give the first alarm of 
the approach of an enemy ; and a more vigilant sentinel in 
the Court of Love was not to be found enlisted under the 
banners of Cupid. The scene was now intoxicating to our 
hero : sparkling champagne had enriched him with a fine 
flow of spirits, and he gave full scope to his imagination ; 
he toasted the health of her Ladj'ship " o'er and o'er again," 
and, as the advocate of Love, he became unusually elo- 
quent. 

As the evening advanced, her Ladyship also began to 
relax from her rigid notions of propriety ; the conversation 
on both sides became more interesting, tender, and warm, 
and reserve was in a great measure laid aside. Jerry was 
rather 2^ressi)ig, as to the ardour of his passion, and Lady 
Wanton not quite so coy as heretofore. The Young One 
had now completely lost sight of the ardent sportsman, in 
the impassioned, persuasive admirer ; and the cold Flirt had 
given way to the woman of warmer feelings, by listening to 
the strains of a well-known amatory Poet, as emphatically 
sung in her ear by our hero : — 

They may rail at this life — from the hour I began it, 
I've found it a life full of kindness and bliss ; 

And until they can shew me some happier planet, 
More social and bright, I'll content me with this. 



222 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

As long as tlie -vrorld has such eloquent ej-es, 
As before me this moment enraptured I see, 

They may say what they will of their orbs in the skies, 
But the earth is the planet for j'ou, love, and me. 

The moments had now become dangerous to the cause of 
morality — a few seconds more, aye, only a few seconds more, 
and all the water in the immense ocean might not have been 
able to have purijied the reputation of Lady AVanton from 
the sneers of the busy, meddling world — when Merrythought 
burst into the room, out of breath, but started back a little 
on beholding Jerry and her Ladyship folded in the arms 
of each other, exclaiming, " My Lady, my Lady ! what is 
to be done — the Baronet's carriage is at the door?" 
" What shall I do ? " said Jerry, rather alarmed, and 
hastily quitting the embrace of his fair heroine. " Jump 
out of this window without delay — there is no alternative — 
there is no danger !" replied Merrythought. " It looks into 
the garden ; it is not far from the ground ; but if j^ou hesi- 
tate one moment, we shall be ruined. Then wait until I 
come to you ; in the mean time, I will go and manage the 
Old Baronet, and your retreat will then be certain." 

But the coolness displayed b}' her Ladyship astonished 
Jerry ; there was nothing like fright exhibited in her con- 
duct, on the sudden appearance of Merrythought ; naj^, on 
the contrary, she seemed to feel more angry at the inter- 
ruption of her pleasure, than as to the consequences likely 
to result from the detection of an intrigue. " I am sur- 
prised," said Lady AYanton, to her waiting-maid, " that 
Sir Richard should think of coming home, without first 
announcing his intention, by letter or otherwise, that I 
might have been prepared to have given him a suitable re- 
ception ; but he has offended me by his precipitation. I 
will teach him better manners in future ; I must and will 
be treated with proper respect. Go, Merry, and tell the 
Baronet," urged her Ladyship, with the utmost sang froid, 
" if he is troublesome, that I am dressing, and I will wait 
upon him shortly in the draAving-room." Lady Wantox 
knew perfectly well tliat she was safe in the hands of Merry- 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 223 

thought; the latter washer confidante; in fact, her Lady- 
ship was completely under her direction, in matters of this 
sort ; hut the rest of her domestics were terrified at the 
mere turn of Lady Wanton's eye ; they had been com- 
pletely drilled by Merrythought (as the only secure mode 
to keep their places and merit the approbation of their 
mistress), to "s^^, hear, and say, nothing." Her Lady- 
ship was everything in the house — it was " her Lad^'ship, 
thk ! " — " her Ladyship, that ! " and the old Baronet was 
not of the slightest consequence in his own residence, ex- 
cept in discharging the bills of the tradesmen, and in furnish- 
ing cash to supply the numerous extravagant wants and 
luxuries of his most affectionate and dashing, j/outhful bride. 
In truth. Lady Wanton had a complete control over the 
Baronet ; and she also possessed the art and address to 
persuade Sir Richard that he was her idol, and the man 
of her decided choice. Her icord was " the law ; " and he 
had scarcely ever dared to dispute her authority. This 
might account, in a great measure, for the command of 
temper displayed by Lady Wanton on so trying an occa- 
sion. 

The suspense of Jerry was not easily to be described, 
and he could not disguise his agitation. Her Ladyship, 
with a kind of satiric smile, resuming something of the Flirt, 
observed to our hero, " You must now be aware. Sir, what 
dangers you have exposed me to ; but I am alone to blame. 
I ought not to have permitted a 3'oung man to converse 
with me during the absence of my husband, in his house ; 
however, it will prove a most profitable lesson to me in 
future, never again to be taken off my guard. What a 
horrid catastrophe might have occurred, had it not been for 
the vigilant Merry thoug Jit. Had the Baronet have pounced 
upon you in my apartment, you certainly would have been 
shot dead ; or the men-servants called upon to have thrown 
you out of the window ; and to wind up the story, perhaps, 
the Gentlemen of the Long Robe employed against j'ou, 
to sue for damages. But pray. Sir, take care of yourself in 
your flight from the window " " Do not talk," said 



224 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

Jerry, "of hurting myself; I am more hurt in my mind, 
than any other consideration. But say, my dear charmer, 
when shall I have the pleasure of seeing you again ? " At 
this instant, MerryfhougJit returned, saying, " She had dis- 
posed, of the Baronet for a few minutes, but that Sir Rich- 
ard was impatient to see her Ladyship, and she had had 
gi^eat difficulty in keeping him down stairs. Therefore, Sir, 
pray take your departure ; another minute's delay will be 
the overthrow of us all. I hear the Baronet's step upon the 

stairs ." Jerry, with great reluctance, prepared to quit 

the apartment ; but previous to which, he caught hold of 
one of her Ladyship's hands, and pressing it to his lips, 

said, " Pray tell me when " " Hush ; for God's sake, 

hush ! " whispered Merrythought, and motioned him to be 
silent, with her finger, when Jerry, stepping over the bal- 
cony, was out of sight in an instant, and alighted safe upon 
the ground in the garden. Scarcely had Merrythought shut 
down the window, drawn the curtains, and put the room 
in order, that no appearance of company might be per- 
ceived, when in hobbled Sir Richard Wanton. " Oh, 
you unkind creature ! " said her Ladj^ship, running up to the 
]5aronet, and kissing him, with the most apparent ecstasy. 
"How could you. Sir Richard, be so destitute of politeness, 
as not to let me know of your intention to return home ? 
But, never mind, I am alwaj^s glad to see you ; to me you 
are more than welcome." At the same time giving the u-ink 
to her waiting-maid to be gone — Merrythought immediately 
took the hint, and lost no time in conducting Jerry safe out 
of the garden. 

It was a delightful moonlight night, but nevertheless the 
sudden change of scene was horrible to the feelings of our 
hero ; compelled to hide himself like a culprit, and also 
afraid to move from the spot, lest he should be attacked 
by a great dog, which he perceived stationed at the end of 
the garden for the protection of the premises, he cursed his 
unlucky stars again and again, in being thus disappointed. 
" Just at the moment," said he, " that Lady Wan ton had 
condescended to forget her rigid notions of propriety, and 



I.IFK IX AXD OUT OF LONDOX. 225 

all was ." He heard tlie rustling- of a female's clothes iu 

the garden, and saw Merrythought making towards the place 
of his retreat. " Hush ! " said she, " for your life ; or I will 
not answer for the consequences. Follow me, and I will let 
you out." Jerry tremblingly obeyed her dictates ; she un- 
locked the door, and made a sign to him to be silent ; he never- 
theless stole a parting kiss, and, just as he was about to solicit 
for another interview, she hastily closed the door, and our 
hero found himself in the street. 

Jerry, mortified beyond description, threw himself into 
a chariot, and soon found himself once more comfortabl}'^ 
situated in Corixthiax House. 



\ 



CHAPTER X. 

The melancholy Fate of Kept Mistresses in general. Vicis- 
situdes of Corinthian Kate — Her various Keepers, 
and rapid degradation in society. Quiet moments, or a 
rational evening. Tom, Jerry, Logic, and the " un- 
comm.oihj J)ig Gentleman,'' entering into the spirit of the 
" GA:\rE OF Forfeits " with the Ladies, at Sir Gregory 
Chance's, the rich Banker. The two Old Maids- 
antique Portraits. A Bit of Good Truth. Tom, Jerry, 
and Logic enjoying the lark, song, fun, and frisk of a 
Cock and Hen Club — a rich Picture of Low Life. 

The dashing career of Corinthian Kate with her new 
gallant, like most kept mistresses, was but of short duration. 
It is true, he was desperately fond of her for a few short- 
lived weeks, and indulged her in everj-thiDg she could wish 
or desire, and his darling Kate was the heroine of his tale. 
But constancy was not the forte of the gallant Captain ; he 
did not profess sincerity as one of his greatest virtues, but 
rather preferred the title of a general lover. He was fond 
of notoriety — and he was anxious to obtain it at any expense. 
If his talents were below par, and elevation of character 
could not be procured by his abilities, then the possession 
of high-bred cattle, and the keeping of fine women, were 
the only sources which presented themselves to his mind, 
whereby he might obtain a fleeting consequence with the 
town ! The Captain was one of those beings who merely 
lived for himself — and the character of a man of fashion 
was the ultimatum of his wishes. With a roving disposition, 
he soon became satiated with the fine person of Corin- 
thian Kate ; he also found fault with her extravagant 
disposition ; and did not approve of her general conduct. 
He affected to be Jealous, incessantly quarrelling with her 
upon the most trifling subjects, and declared himself a great 



I 



LIFK IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 227 

fool for conuectiug- himself with a woman of lier grudv in 
society. But tlie real truth of the matter was, that she 
was too expensive for his purse. The Captain had seen a 
female he liked much better, and one more suited to his 
taste ; he was therefore determined to cut with Corinthtan 
Kate the first opportunity which presented itself, that he 
might get rid of her with something like the outward ap- 
pearance, on his part, of a man of honour. These repeated 
attacks operated like so many daggers to the lofty de- 
meanour of Kate ; she could not, she would not, submit to 
them ; death would have been preferable ; and she almost 
became mad with rage, mortification, and insult. She, that 
had been so tenderly treated by the Corinthian, to be 
thus spurned at by a man whom she considered his inferior 
in every point of view, was more than she could tamely 
submit to, without giving vent to her indignant feelings ; 
and, with more spirit than prudence, she bitterly retorted 
on the Captain for his want of honourable and gentlemanly 
conduct towards her, blamed herself, even to tears, for sub- 
mitting to such an ungrateful, worthless fellow, and, in the 
whirlwind of her passion, bid him begone for ever from her 
sight. This was the climax the Captain had so anxiously 
wished to bring about — he only waited for something like 
a dismissal, that he might make good his retreat. With 
the utmost indifference, he laughed heartily at her spleen, 
and said, " he was sorry, upon his honour, that they had 
come to such an unpleasant conclusion, but that such cir- 
cumstances often happened in life ; Fate was everything, 
and we must submit to it. ' Hanging and wiving,' accord- 
ing to our immortal bard, both rested upon destiny ; and 
lovers, true lovers, were born to bear a thousand cruel dis- 
appointments." Then, holding out his hand, " Hoped, 
nevertheless, they should part good friends." This con- 
temptuous conduct on the part of the Captain towards 
Corinthian Kate, was beyond all endurance, to a woman 
of her haughty spirit — and, although nearly choked with 
rage, she disdained to make any reply to his cruel taunts, 
but merely pointed to the door for him to quit the apart- 
ment. He immediately discharged the rent, tradesmen's 



228 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

bills, &c., and placed on the table a bank-note for one 
hundred pounds. Then, with a self-approving smile, he 
took his departure, whistling a popular air, and Corin- 
thian Kate, for the first time in her life, found herself 
without a protector. 

In spite of her pride, for a few days after the retirement 
of the gallant Captain, she gave way to her chagrin, and 
forcibly felt her reduced situation in life ; but as the luxury 
of woe was not a thriving quality for a person of Corin- 
thian Kate's disposition, she immediately banished it 
from her company, and made up her mind to put a more 
cheerful face on the matter. She was also well aware that 
her real character was very likely soon to be hloivti upon, 
and the world in general become acquainted with her mode 
of life. Squcamishness was now out of the question, and 
another chance offering itself, Kate was once more the ac- 
knowledged mistress of a man of ton ; a gentleman who had 
long sighed for the reversion of her charms ; in fact, he had 
made overtures to Corinthian Kate, during her career with 
Tom, but, at that period, she had very properly refused to 
listen to them. But the case was altered ; necessity has no 
law ; money she must have ; and her feelings were so com- 
pletely changed resj)ecting mankind, that one gallant was 
of equal importance to her, on the score of attachment, as 
another. Respect and feeling for the male sex were at an 
end with Kate ; therefore, in future, her intentions were to 
treat them more like articles of merchandise, than to look 
for those inestimable qualities of honour, generosity, and 
kindness, which are expected and ought to reign paramount 
in the breast of every individual, in behalf of the most 
lovely part of the creation. The passion of love, which 
once had so powerfully filled her bosom, when that love 
was returned by the Corinthian, was now turned into im- 
placable revenge against all mankind ; and art, systematic 
art, was in future to regulate her conduct — to persuade 
rather than please ; to profess, by way of deception, im- 
mense attachment towards her keeper, but absolutely to 
feel nothing else but contempt for her protector. Indeed, 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 229 

her imperious and unkind conduct to the man of toit, very 
soon disgusted him, and he left her completely to her fate. 
But this circumstance appeared of little consequence to her 
feelings, as she had now become akin to neglect and dis- 
appointment. She therefore trusted to chance for her liveli- 
hood J when another gallant, another, and another presented 
themselves in succession to her notice ; in fact, she had 
changed her keepers so often, that she had quite lost her 
rank as a dashing mistress in the Fashionable World ; and, 
iiltimately, the once splendid Corinthian Kate was glad 
to accept the attentions of a tradesman for support. This 
might be dated the era of her misfortunes ; in truth, her 
complete fall in life. Poverty had effected wonders ujjon 
this haughty dame ; but, nevertheless, the vast difference of 
her station — just living above the frowns of the world as 
it were, a miserable pittance at best, and treated roughly 
by her keeper, a fellow not possessed of even common 
civility towards her, much more to entertain her with the 
manners of a gentleman, which all her life she had been 
accustomed to receive — preyed at times so considerably on 
her wounded spirits, that she resorted for consolation to 
the stupefying effects produced by the bottle and glass. 

The wife of the tradesman also found out the lodgings of 
Kate, and not onlj^ exposed her unfortunate situation to 
the surrounding multitude in the street, but she was almost 
beaten to a mummy by the jealous rib of the tradesman ; 
exulting in her triumph, she said, " I have found out the 
wretch at last, who has decoyed and kept my husband 
from his family." In consequence of which, the whole 
neighbourhood was in an uproar, and Kate sent on a 
charge to the watch-house. This was her first trouble, and 
being quite ignorant as to the mode of procuring bail, she 
was locked up in the black-hole during the night, until she 
made her appearance before a magistrate at the Police 
Ofiioe. On being placed at the bar, her trembling limbs 
could scarcely sustain her agitated frame, and she most 
keenly felt the horrors of her degraded situation. The real 
tears of affliction stole down her interesting face like drops 



230 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

of rain, and, to prevent the penetrating gaze of the magis- 
trates and the crowd in the Office, she hid her face in her 
handkerchief, overwhelmed with shame and confusion. 
None of her flatterers were to be seen stepping forward to 
render her the slightest assistance; and she now, almost 
broken-hearted, found out what it was to be in the world 
without a friend. Notwithstanding her fallen state, Kate 
still retained a great portion of her elegance and beauty, 
and the Public Journals teemed with accomits of the exa- 
mination of the dashing Cyprian at Bow Street. Corin- 
thian Kate was now gone for ever, as to respectability in 
life ; and this public expose of her name and person had 
inevitably sealed her fate. The warrant against her was 
discharged on paying the fees ; but, on returning to her 
lodgings, the wife of the tradesman had excited such re- 
sentment against her in the breast of the persons who kept 
the house, that, in sj)ite of all her remonstrances, the door 
was closed against her, and Corinthian Kate might be 
said to be literally turned into the street, and without a 
home ! 

Sir John Blubber, who had been for some time past 
anxious to make up a mixed party of Ladies and Gentle- 
men to meet him at Sir Gregory Chance's, in Portland 
Place, a banker of the first class, ultimately prevailed upon 
our heroes to do Sir Gregory the honour of a visit. " We 
have no decided objection to the thing," observed Logic, 
" but I am rather afraid it is altogether out of our line, and 
there will be too much restrautt for Jerry and Tom ; in 
fact, it is likely to have too much still life about it." " You 
are quite mistaken," replied Sir John, " Sir Gregory is one 
of us ; although he is not a man of gaiety, he despises unneces- 
sary /ormcr//?'^ ; and you will find him to be a most excellent 
companion." Sir Gregory Chance, like his friend Sir 
John, had positively risen from nothing in the world ; and his 
first recollection of himself was in the humble situation of 
a Blue-coat Boy ; birth and pedigree, therefore, he always 
kept in the background ; his mother and father, and his 
uncles and his aunts, ho, for jjrivatc motives, never intro- 



fl 



MFT5 IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 281 

cluced to his visitors ; perhaps for the best reasons in the 
world. Sir Gregory Chance had never had an opjiortunity 
of ktiotcing them. He was all himself ; and to himaelf 
ALONE he was indebted for the whole of his proj)erty. 
Owing to a strange run of good lucli, one thing succeeding 
another prosperously, he had amassed a princely fortune ; 
and, by a rich marriage, had secured himself and children 
from want for life. Sir Gregory possessed a most liberal, 
friendly disposition ; and the excellence of his dinners in 
general, and the quality of his wines, could not be surpassed 
by the first duke in the kingdom. To prevent a mono- 
fonom evening, and also to give relief to the common-place 
routine of conversation, the Game of Forfeits was pro- 
posed, as likely to produce considerable mirth amongst the 
party, and admitted, by all the company present, to be a 
most innocent piece of pastime and recreation. 

Two Old Maids of Quality who were present, and who 
had previously heard of the vagaries of Tom, Jerry, and 
Logic, as the heroes of Life in London, were quite de- 
lighted with their attention to the ladies. They declared, 
lisjjing over their wine, that they did not exjiect to find 
them such attentive creatures to the fair sex ; altogether so 
polite, highly talented, and the possessors of so much good 
wit and humour. Indeed, they were exceedingly happy to 
read their recantation upon the subject ; for they had been 
induced to entertain an opinion that they were persons who 
could not remain an hour in private, respectable comjDany, 
but were completely hurried away by their particular pur- 
suits in life. " The Corinthian, as they call him," said one 
of the old tabbies to the other, in a whisper, at the same time 
casting rather an amorous glance at Tom, " is really one of 
the most elegant fellows I ever saw ; and if anything like 
constancy was attached to his character, he is calculated 
to make any lady happy. For my part, much as my aver- 
sion has been expressed towards men in general, I could 
almost venture to give my hand and fortune to the Corin- 
thian." 

"Jerry, as Ihov familiarlv call him," said the other old 



232 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

Maid, a great lover of sculpture, and also an humble ad- 
mirer of Canova in statuary, " is a fine young fellow indeed ; 
he is a beautifully made man — he is a perfect Adonis ! His 
limbs are of the Herculean cast, and his back is manly in 

the extreme. I should like to see him un Oh, dear, 

my Lady, I must beg your pardon ; I am too much of an 
entJiusiast in my disposition. I really was not thinking 
exactly about what I was saying ; but I know your good- 
ness will excuse it. I declare, I am so much of an artist, 
that I am rather too technical in my descriptions." 

" Oh, I beg you will not mention it, my dear Madam ; 
you cannot control your feelings at all times," replied the 
first tabby. " Perhaps I am rather too free in my remarks, 
but I do not like the gentleman they call Logic so well as 
the other two. He is too much of a quiz, and he appears to 
me to be a great satirist ; but, nevertheless, all his remarks 
tend to show he is a well-informed person. He has said 
some excellent things during the evening ; and, I must ad- 
mit, he has proved himself the life of the company. Mr 
Logic has loit at will ; but, in truth, they form a trio of 
intellect, talent, and humour of the richest quality, and far 
superior to most gentlemen that you meet with in general 
company." 

The Game of Forfeits had now commenced, as the 
annexed Plate represents ; but Tom preferred the conversa- 
tion of a very elegant female, who had attracted his atten- 
tion the principal part of the evening ; and Logic, who had 
grown tired of this sort of amusement, excused himself by 
saying that he would have a game of forfeits with the little 
children. Jerry, however, could not hack out — he could 
not refuse the pressing entreaties of the females ; and the 
*' uncommonly big Gentleman" said, with a smiling face, 
that he liked nothing better than a genteel romp with the 
ladies, 

Jerry was soon brought into a submissive posture by the 
ladies, to fulfil the character of the "Blind Ju.sficc,'" and 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 2''Vo 

adjudge all the forfeits. He had to kneel upon the ground, 
and hide his face upon a velvet cushion, placed on the lap 
of a young lady, in order that his decmons might be impar- 
tial. But Jerry, anxious to have a little fun with Sir John, 
took rather an unfair sort of squint, to ascertain whether he 
was right, when he called upon the lady to adjudge a forfeit 
upon the watch belonging to the "uncommonly big Gentle- 
man." "That tell-tale informs me," said Jerry, assuming 
a solemnity of manner, " the gentleman it belongs to might 
through life have employed his time much better than he 
has done ; but, as there is nothing like the time present, 
he cannot employ his time better than to kiss the candle- 
stick ; but if he does not perform the same operation on the 
lady who presents it to him, it must be admitted he has 
lost his TIME. And be it known, that before the owner can 
obtain the return of the article in question, he must shew 
the advantage of time and opportunity to the present com- 
pany, by giving two chaste salutes to those young ladies 
near the gentleman with the star upon his breast, who have 
resisted the attacks of time ; it will then be perceived he 
has well fiilfilled his time, and he may retire to his chair, 
with the honours of war." This was rather an ungracious 
task for the " uncommonly big Gentleman " to perform ; he 
was too bulky for anything like an elegant deportment, and 
Sir John had very nearly thrown the young lady down 
when he was forfeited to kiss the candlestick. But the up- 
roar began when he attempted to salute the two old Maids ; 
and the room resounded with laughter. They could not 
consent to such a thing for the world, and a variety of other 
foolish objections ; but Sir John persevered, in spite of 
their squeamishness, and obtained a complete triumph, and 
kissed them two or three times for their refusal, and, by de- 
sire of the party, repeated the offence, to the great amuse- 
ment of the company. Tom, Jerry', and Logic did not 
depart until a late hour ; but flattered themselves that they 
had spent one rational evening during their peregrinations 
of Life in London — one, also, which might not only bear 
the strictest scrutiny as to propriet}' of conduct, but they 
could reflect upon it in the morning with pleasure and profit, 



234 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

and likewise regret that many more evenings had not been 
spent like the one they had so agreeably passed at Sir 
Gkegory Chance's. 

To keep the game alive was always the study of Logic, 
and " By way of contrast to the party at Sir Gregory 
Chance s" said the Oxonian to Jerry, " you shall accom- 
pany me to what is termed a ' Cock and Hen Club,' where 
you may say and do as you like, and no forfeits demanded. 
I met with a friend who, a few evenings since, was highly 
amused at this club, and he has given me the direction. 
The house is situated in an obscure part of the town, but 
we cannot mistake the street." On entering the club-room, 
Jerry was struck with astonishment at the surrounding 
group. " It is nothing new to me," replied Logic, " but 
rather a renewed feature of low Life in London, which I 
was occasionally very familiar with a few years ago ; yet 
there is something attached to this heterogeneous club, that 
an observer of mankind may pick and cull a rich bit of 
human nature, and turn it to advantage. It again reminds 
me that the poorer classes of society seem to enjoy life with 
greater happiness than their superiors ; indeed, there is an 
indescribable sort of jollity about their behaviour, however 
wretched and humble their fare may be, not to be met with 
at the dashing rout or splendid party. But we will ask 
the waiter for some little account about the chairman, who 
appears to me to be an original ; and we must also obtain, 
if possible, a trifling outline of his assistant, the hady Pa- 
troness of this meeting. The chairman in petticoats," con- 
tinued Logic, smiling, " seems to be taking her veed with 
no small gout." 

" They are both out-and-outers,^' answered the waiter, 
" and nothing like them to keep such an unruly company 
together, as, ' Any-thing Tommy ' and ' Ilalf-qiiarfern Luce ! ' 
The chairman, Tommy, in the early part of his life, was 
considered a lad of mettle, but it has always stuck in his 
gizzard, according to his own expressions on the subject, 
to think as how he hud bccii irerry cruelly used by the 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF I.OXDOX. 235 

Fortune Tellers* when he was quite a mere boy. Tommy 
only made a slight mistake,^ I assure j-ou, Sir, and they 
sent liim on a voyage of discovery, to improve his manners ; 
to be sure, they took the opinion of twelve men + about the 
matter first ; but, after remaining seven j^ears abroad, he 
returned home, not a bit better informed, and lost all his 
time for nothing. Tommy did not take it much to heart, 
as other chaps would have done ; grieving he looked upon 
as a folly, and he has endeavoured, since his return to Old 
England, to do the best he could for himself ; i.e., to act with 
more caution, you see, Sir, and not to give anything like a 
chance away. 

" Tommy has been, by turns, a costard-monger, a coal- 
whipper, a flying dustman, a boner of stiff-ones,% and a 
coach cad, to yarn an honest penny, and a bit of a prig, if 
it suited him, sooner than have to complain of an empty 
rictaalling office. He can throw off a flash chaunt in the 
first style ; patter ^lang better than most blades on the 
town ; knows well the use of his bunch of fives ; a capital 
one for a street row ; and a sort of a happy-go-lucky fellow 
upon all occasions. Although Tommy has no pretensions," 
continued the waiter, " to the character of an Adonis, nor 
to rank as a Bond Street dandy, yet, nevertheless, he is a 
great fancy man, amongst his own class of society, and 



* The Judges at the Old Bailey. 

f Putting his hand into another man's pocket and securing the 
purse ; but, as he was taken in the fact, ToiliiY declared, " upon his 
vord, it was nothing else but a ' slight mistake ' on his part, and might 
have happened to anybody else. It was an ungentlemanly thing to 
suspect him of dishonesty I " 

+ The Jury. 

§ A resuri-ection man, or a body-snatcher. " I will do anj'thing to 
get a bit of srrun, in an honest way," said Tommy to his friends, by 
way of an excuse for his conduct. " Poor things ! you know as how 
they are dead and cold, and they knows nothing about it. Vy, Lord 
bless you, I vouldu't hurt anything alire for the univarse." 



236 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

most of tlie female vomen set their caps at him. But his 
feelings and notions of honour are in the right place ; and, 
notwithstanding he mixes amongst the lowest females in 
life, he detests the idea, and scorns the fellow who is des- 
picable enough to reduce himself to become a petticoat 
pensioner* 

" Any-thing Tommy has made good use of his time ; he 
has amassed together a tidyish lot of hhinf by his various 
avocations, which puts him above temptation ; and he 
leaves it to the ' seedy coves ' to do all the naughty tricks. 
It is rather singular to remark that, although Any-thing 
Tommy does not wash his face once a week, nor comb out 
his hair in the course of a fortnight, yet his pride is so 
great, that he sports a diamond forney on his little finger ; 
and in his cameza, which is generally as black as soot, a 
diamond broach, to give it value. But it will do you good, 
Sir, to hear him chaff ; it comes from his tongue as easy as 
oil, and he has got the gift of the gab, equal to Counsellor 
Slang' em at the start. You will soon have an opportunity 
of judging for yourself when he tips you the articles of the 
club. 

" Half-quartern Luce," said the waiter, " is a clever 
woman ; in fact, she was reared a lady, but she is scarcely 
ever sober. I have known her to drink thirty -six half 
quarters of gin in a day : it is from this inordinate swal- 
low of blue ruin she derives her nick-name. Luce was 
once a very handsome woman, but she has been reduced, 
step by step, to the wretched creature she now appears to 
be, and drinks herself stuj)id to drown all reflection. But 
when she is perfectly sober, she keeps the club in roars of 
laughter by her wit and talents ; and the whole of the 
blowings come the grand salaam to her as their superior. 
Luce is flash to the very echo ; her person is entirely gone 



* Detestable wretches who live upon the money obtained by the 
prostitution of unfortunate women. llunilrods of such infauious 
feJlows are to be met with in the metrtipolis. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 237 

as to attraction, and she lives principally, as Lice terms it, 
hy flat cafchiiKj !'' 

The chairman called silence, and observed, as he per- 
ceived several strange coves in the room, he would tip them 
the rules of the club. " My coveys," said Tommy, " all 
characters are safe here ; honesty speaks for itself, and 
therefore we never talk about it, as honesty is considered 
a most alarming subject. The cocks are all considered to 
be game, and the hens belong to the same breed, but chickens 
cannot be admitted. No liberties must be taken with 
private projjerty, and every man stands pledged to do 
' what is right ' to his neighbour. Suspicious persons are 
excluded ; therefore do as you like, drink what you please, 
and stand upon no ceremony, but tjrush when it suits you. 
We cockonians are only part ik la r as to one thing — all sorts 
of lush must be tipped for on delivery. But, mind me, if 
those suspicious characters, the traps, should kick up a row, 
and take a liking to any of your persons, such familiarity 
must be treated as it deserves, the insult must be resented 
by a good towelling ; besides, you must all stick together 
like glue, and never leave them until you are out of trouble. 
If you are flats enough to let the ^j>/r/s get the best of you, 
nothing less than quod is sure to be j'our fate ; perhaps 
you may be taught some new steps upon the tread-mill. 
You may take your ' davy ' they can't lag you for being 
found here, without you are icanted. If any of you are 
wanted, gents, you know, vy that materially alters the case. 
Now you knows all about the club — conform j^ourselves to 
the rules — treat the hens like ladies — make yourselves happy, 
and I will call for a chaunt.''^ 

" I have witnessed a great variety of scenes, since I have 
been in London," said the Young One to Logic, " but this 
is equal to any, if it does not beggar the whole of them ; in 
truth, I had not the least idea that such meetings were 
suffered to take place." " You are quite right," replied the 
Oxonian, " they are always held upon the sly ; and, as soon 
as the police officers obtain the right scent, and make their 



238 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

appeai'ance, the coirs and coresses are compelled to fly in 
every direction, and some very laughable occurrences take 
place. Some of the fellows may be seen scrambling over 
the tops of the houses, others getting down into the cellar, 
glad to hide themselves anywhere from the grasp of the 
traps. The glims are generally put out, and the screams of 
the unfortunate women, anxious to avoid a night's lodging 
in the roimdp-hni, or committal by the magistrates for a 
month as disorderly, defy anything like description. It is 
dangerous to be safe, I assure you, and it is not unlikely 
but such a visitation may take place this evening. I do 
not wish to alarm you, Jerry, but the sooner we toddle 
perhaps the better. I think I hear a bit of a scuffle below 
stairs even now, and, as the traps pay no respect to persons, 
I propose to holt. This was immediately agreed to by Tom, 
and the trio were off with the celerity of a shot. 

Tom Open-mout//, the ^chaunter, commenced the following 
old flash song, at the request of the lady patroness : — 

Come all you rolling kiddy boys, that in London does abound, 
If you wants to see a bit of life, go to the Bull in the Found ;* 
'Tis there you'll see Poll, Bet, and Sal, with many other Flames, 
And " pitch and hustle," " ring the bull," and lots oi fancy games. 
With my fal de lal, fal de lal, de di do ! 

" Stow the chaunt ! " says Toimmy, " I thinks as how T 
hears a bit of a serufjimage below the dancers.f Don't be 
alarmed, moNis/iers,+ as the glims must be doused. It's a 



* A well-known flash house fifty years ago, denominated the " Bull 
in trouble .'" and contiguous to Bagniggo Wells Tea Gardens. A place 
of great resort at that period, and for several years afterwards, by the 
rolling kiddies of the old school, their girls, family peojilo, &c. The 
" Bidl in trouble " has been long since razed to the ground, and, on 
the old site, a capital new house has been erected, and called " TiiK 
Union." 

t The staii-s. 

I An old slang jihrasc. Low womou uu the town. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF T.OXDON. 239 

ui-sif, I am sure, from some of those d suspicious cha- 
racters. Therefore, let us all brush." The row soou became 
general ; lots of the blades and their »io//.s were locked up 
by the officers for the night, and Tom, Jerry, and Logic 
congratulated themselves on their lucky escape. 



CHAPTER XI. 

Logic and his Pals " going the rounds ; " a finish to the 
night, and an early SjJree. Ojf-hand Wager, and the 
" uncommonly big Gentleman " in the basket — a comic 
Scene near the Theatres. Archery : Tom, Jerry, 
and the fat Knight, try their skill to hit the Bull's-eye. 
The Corinthian's opinion respecting the amusement of 
Archery. A visit to the Regenfs Park. The Zoo- 
logical Gardens : bustle and alarm occasioned by the 
escape of the Kangaroo; Sir John Blubber down on 
the subject. One of those afjflictiug occurrences of Life 
in London — Tom, Jerry, and Logic arrested in their 
progress home, by the melancholy discovery 0/ Corinthian 
Kate, in the last stage of a consumption, disease, and 
inebriety ! 

After a night's cruise in search of life, fun, and character, 
or, as Logic termed it, "going the rounds," a cup of coffee 
at the Finish reduced, in some degree, the powerful effects 
'of the copious draughts of wine which our heroes had dis- 
posed of in the course of the evening ; and, in their road 
home through Co vent Garden Market, Sir John Bijtbber 
was in high spirits, and ready to enter into any species of 
amusement which might present itself to their notice. The 
Oxonian took occasion to remark on the very heavy loads 
the Irish women carried from the Market on their heads, 
and immediately offered a bet that Kathleen Flaunagan, a 
well-known strong woman, should carry the " uncommonly 
big Gentleman" twice round the Market, without stopping 
to rest herself, if Sir John remained still in her basket. 
But previous to which, the Oxonian had ear-wigged Kath- 
leen on the subject of her strength, and the certainty of 
success : he told her that if she seconded him in having a 
lark with the fat Knight, she would be well paid for her 



LIFE IX AND OUT OF LONDOX. "241 

trouble. " I only want," said Bob, " to get him into the 
basket. I am sure you will not have to carry him half -a - 
dozen yards, Sir John will be so alarmed for his safety. 
In cooler moments, I am certain, nothing on earth would 
have tempted him to mount, he is so extremely careful of 
his Falsfajf carcase." " By de powers," answered Kathleen 
Flannngan, " is it to carry that lusty gentleman you mane ; 
bad luck to me, if I could not run off with him like a paraf//, 
and that's the truth now, and no joke. ^^Tiy, he's all 
blabber and froth /" '' Then I may back you to carry him, 
and no mistake?" inquired Logic. "You may, honey, 
safe enough," replied Kathleen ; " only let him mount, and 
I'll basket him in a pig's whisper. You know, he is nothing 
else but fat, and that, you see, is much lighter than solid 
meat. I can carry the like of two of him." 

" Impossible," cried Sir Johx, " she might as well attempt 
to run away with the Monument ; indeed, to shew you, Bob, 
that you are in error, I'll bet a supper and a dozen of wine, 
she does not carry me one hundred yards." " Agreed ! " 
answered Logic, " a trial — come, prepare ! " Sir John im- 
mediately placed himself in the market-woman's basket, 
when Pat JSIurphy and two or three Irish porters lent a 
hand, and Sir Johx was soon upon Kathleen s head, kick- 
ing his heels about, as restless as an eel, not approving 
of his uncomfortable situation. Off Kathleen toddled with 
her load, amidst the roars of laughter of the surrounding 
spectators ; at every step she took the mob increased, and the 
Market was all in an uproar. The Corixthiax enjoyed the 
humorous scene beyond measure, and kept an anxious look- 
out for the appearance of Jerry, whom they had left finishing 
his coffee, to follow them immediately, and enjoy the ridi- 
culous situation of the fat Knight ; and Logic, as the plate 
represents, was tickling Sir John with his spread, and offer- 
ing to bet any sum that he should win his wager. Sir John 
had scarcely left the ground, ere he repented of his error ; 
and, almost afraid to stir, kept crying out, " Let me get 
down, you Irish faggot ; you will break my neck. I will 
consent to lose — Stop I stop! stop!" "Go on, Kathleen," 

u 



242 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

said Logic, " never mind what he says ; the ' big one ' is 
out of his mind." "Come, come, Bob, the joke is answered," 
vociferated the fat Knight ; "be satisfied with your triumph. 
Let me down, and I will make a present of a crown to your 
Irish porter in petticoats." " By all the saints in the calen- 
dar," replied Flannagan, pretending to be in a great passion, 
" if you are so unjontlemanly as to throw a slur upon my 
sex, I will carry you to the hack settlements in the Holy 
Land, where you shall get a sound bating for your prate 
and impertinence.^^ "Only let me down, and I will consent to 
anything. Miss Flannagan." "But you have not been half 
round the Market yet," observed Bob, "and you ought not to 
disappoint the spectators." 

In consequence of the repeated solicitations of Sir John, 
who now began to treat the affair in a serious manner, and 
was utterly unable to submit any longer to the loud noise, 
shouts, and laughter of the crowd, Logic consented that the 
fat Knight should be safely landed, if he would give Kathleen 
a sovereign for the heavy load she had carried. " I'll give 
anything," answered Sir John, " only let me down." " "Well, 
Sir," answered Kathleen, "as I am anxious to do the clane 
genteel thing, and you have altered your tone to one of the 
fair sex, and intend to behave like a jontleman, I will soon 
give you a grounder, and then you must be a good bo}', and 
take care of yourself for the future." On Sir John re- 
covering the use of his legs, the " King's picture " in gold 
was immediately handed over to Kathleen, who dropped a 

curtsey, saying, "By J , I should like to have a few 

more such loads, at a sovereign a-piece." The fat Knight 
had scarcely recovered himself from the " adventures of the 
basket," got out of the clutches of Kathleen, and regulated 
his apparel, when Jerry appeared in sight, out of breath, 
saying, " I have heard all about the lark ; but I regret. Sir 
John, that I was not time enough to witness your elevation 
in society. It really was unkind of you to keep me out of 
this fiinny affair. If I had been with you, I am sure you 
should, for once in your life, have turned the tables on Green 
Specs." "Never mind," replied Sir John, "I am not at all 



LIFE IN ANT) OUT OF LONDON. 243 

angry about it : but the best thing, I think, we can all do, 
is to say the cruise is at an end, and make the best of our way 
home." This proposition had the desired effect, Sir John 
drove off iu a hack for the Snuggo'i/, and Tom, Jerry, and 
Logic, lost no time to enjoy the comforts of Corinthian 
House. 

In the course of a few days after the above uicjlifa spire, 
our heroes received cards of invitation to join the company 
of some gentlemen archers, on their next grand field-day. 
" 8ome years ago," said ToAr, " I was extremely fond of 
archery, and a tolerably good marksman. I have hit the 
bull's-eye more than once in my life ; but I could not back 
myself to do it now." " I can bring down a bird with my 
gun almost to a certainty," observed Jerry ; " and although 
I do not wish to boast of being a crack shot, I flatter myself 
I shall not be far off the hnWs-eye with my arrow." 
"Archery,"* said Tom, "has been the amusement of the 
nobles and jBovereigns of every nation, and is the general 
amusement of many eastern countries to this day. It is 
also very conducive to health ; and, viewed as an amuse- 
ment. Archery possesses advantages over all others as a 
field diversion, by strengthening and bracing the bodily 
frame, without that laborious exertion common to many 
games, every nerve and sinew being regularly brought into 



* It is said that Archery was so mucli approved of as a bodily 
exercise by Bisliop Latimer, that he even preached a sermon in favour 
of it, before Edward the Sixth. After the Eestoration, Archery 
became the general amusement. Charles the Second himself took 
such delight in it, that he even knighted a man * for excelling an ex- 
cellent shot, whose portrait is in the Toxophilite Society. After the 
death of Charles, it again began to decline, and was confined in prac- 
tice to a few counties only, till about forty years ago, when it was re- 
vived with increased splendour, throughout every part of England, as 
will appear by the number of societies that were instituted, many of 
which exist, and continue their yearly and monthly meetings to this 
day. 



' Sii' William Wood. 



244 LTFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

play, without the danger of being exposed to those alter- 
nate heats and colds, incident to the games of cricket, 
tennis, &c. 

"To persons who are naturally indolent," continued the 
Corinthian, " Archery often makes a man perform 
more than he thinks is in his power ; for many an archer, 
who would not imdertake, nor be prevailed upon, to walk 
five miles in a journey, has walked six at the targets ; for 
in shooting forty- eight times up to one target, and forty- 
eight times back again to the other (the number of rounds 
the ToxojDhilite Society shoot on grand days), besides walk- 
ing to the arrows shot beyond the targets, which, upon a 
reasonable calculation, may be reckoned five yards each 
time, and but five back again, makes ninety- six times one 
hundred and ten yards, which is exactly six miles." " That 
will do for me ; I want pleasant exercise ; I am too bulky." 
said Sir John, " and I must reduce myself iii weight. I 
will become an archer without loss of time." "I should 
advise you, by all means," answered Tom ; " therefore let us 
all go dressed in the proper uniform, and I will introduce 
you to the Secretary, and the other members of the Society." 
"I will also accompany you," observed the Oxonian, but as 
to hitting the bulVs-fi/e, it would be 'all my eye' to attempt 
it." 

" Another advantage attending the amusement of Ar- 
chery is," said Tom, "that it is equally open to the fair 
sex, and has, for these last thirty years, been the favourite 
recreation of a great part of the female nobility, the only 
field diversion they can enjoy without incurring the censure 
of being thought masculine.* It will be needless to enume- 



* Madame Bola, formerly a famous opera-dancer, upon being taught 
the use of the bow, declared, that of all attitudes she ever studied (and 
surely some little deference of opinion ought to be jiaid to one whose 
■whole life was spent in studying attitudes), she thought the position 
of shooting with the longbow was the most noble. Certain it is, that 
the figure of a man cannot be displayed to greater advantage than 
when drawing the bow at an elevation. Every arrlur ought to studj- 
well this part of archery. 



a 









^ 



^^ 









X 



n\ 



t:\ 






:\ 



1^, 




LIFE IN AND OUT OF I.O>iI)ON. 245 

rate the many advantages received in pursuing this amuse- 
ment ; those who have tried, do not require any further 
argument in support of it, than what their own experience 
has already supplied them with." " Of course the company 
of the ladies must prove a great attraction to the admirers 
of archery," observed Logic; "but, instead of hitting the 
target, their aim, I rather apprehend, is of a more tender 
nature — the hearts of the archers ! " Clothes were imme- 
diately ordered of the old swell tailor, Mr Primefit ; the 
necessary preliminaries were also entered into with the 
secretary, as to their becoming members of the society ; 
and, on the appointed day, Tom, Jerry, Logic, and the 
" uncommonly big Gentleman," properly attired as archers, 
entered the field, and made their bows to the ladies. 

The scene, as the plate represents, was altogether prepos- 
sessing ; the elegant dresses of the ladies, the handsome uni- 
form of the archers, a lively band of music, splendid marquees, 
refreshments of all kinds, flags flying, the archer's silver cup, 
handed round to the ladies to sweeten this honorary trophy 
with their lips, &c., induced Jerry to observe " that he had 
seen nothing, since his visit to London, which had afforded 
him so much real pleasure." 

The elegant attitude of Tom, and the management and 
skill he displayed with his bow, were the admiration of the 
company ; and, amidst the applause of the visitors, he was 
proclaimed the captain of the day, by hitting the buU's-eye, 
and bearing o£E the prize of the gold medal. Jerry also 
proved himself no mean rival at the target, and his arrow 
was so well placed, as to procure for him the situation of 
lieutenant, and the silver medal was awarded to him for his 
exertions, The "uncommonly big Gentleman" was quite 
abroad, like an outside horse at a race ; his arrow obtained 
no place whatever, and loud laughter was the only reward 
the fat Knight received for his exertions. Logic very 
wisely pleaded inability, on account of his green specs., and 
his time was otherwise pleasantly employed by his attention 
to the ladies. Our heroes returned to Corinthian Home, 



246 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

highly delighted with the amusement they had experienced 
at the Archery Ground. 

In the course of a few days, Sir John, who was always 
upon the look-out for something new to amuse Jerry, pro- 
posed a visit to the Zoological Gardens. " I have heard 
a most excellent report of them," replied Tom, " and I shall 
be happy to make one of the party to view the fine collec- 
tion of birds and beasts they contain." Jerry pictured to 
himself a treat ; the carriage was ordered immediately, and, 
in a very short time, our heroes appeared at the gate for 
admittance. " I am quite pleased with these Gardens," said 
the Oxonian to Jerry : " they reflect considerable credit 
upon the directors of this society. The situation is altogether 
delightful ; it is a pleasant walk, or a fine drive for the 
gentry, and a most agreeable lounge into the bargain." 
While our heroes were conversing on different topics con- 
nected with the arrangement of the Gardens, a sudden bustle 
and alarm amongst the visitors excited their attention. The 
kangaroo had escaped from his den, owing to the door being 
accidentally left open. In the scuffle to be foremost, the 
*' uncommonly big Gentleman " kicked his toe against a stone, 
and lost his balance, which made the ground shake again. 
" By Jove ! " exclaimed Logic, putting on one of his comical 
faces, " what a violent shock ! a sort of an earthquake ! 
What a j)ity ! this delightful park wdll be in ruins, in the 
twinkling of an eye ! That beautiful row of houses seems 
to me to be on the totter already ! " " Oh dear," said a 
lady, overw^helmed with affright, and w'ho had overheard 
the last sentence, " be kind enough. Sir, to let me lay hold 
of your arm. I have lost my husband in the bustle. Do 
you really think we shall all be swallowed uj) ? " " Do not 
believe him, dear Madam," said Sir John, as he lay sprawl- 
ing on the ground ; " that Bob Logic is one of the greatest 
jokers of the present day ; he turns everything into ridi- 
cule." 

Time did not hang heavily on the hands of Tom, Jkrry, 
and Logic ; in fact, their invitations were so numerous, that 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 247 

ttey were often at a loss to make a selection amongst their 
friends, as to whom they should give the preference. Com- 
mon-place invitations, or anything like routine parties, wei-e 
instantly rejected by the Corinthian and Logic, their 
object being novelty, character, or information, from which 
the visit of Jerry might turn out to his advantage. On 
their return home from a convivial party in the City, given 
by Sir John Blubber to some wealthy citizens, where the 
fine wines of the " uncommonly big Gentleman " had been 
pushed about with unusual celerity, and the evening had 
been spent in the most lively manner, and mirth and gaiety 
prevailed to the end of the chapter — on bidding " good 
night," or, rather, " good morning," to the rich cits, Tom 
was in excellent spirits, Logic rijye for anything, and Jerry 
perfectly ready to follow the steps of his two most accom- 
plished masters ; but their progress was suddenly arrested 
by the groans of an unfortunate female, as the plate rej)re- 
sents, apparently in a dying state, under the Piazza of 
Covent Garden. 

The rapid degradation of Kate was of the most afflicting 
description ; unlike many women, who have managed to 
live in splendour for j-ears, and hold their rank and attrac- 
.tion as fashionable courtezans, until the frowns of age placed 
them in the shade, and reduced their consequence in the 
eyes of their gallants, she went headlong to destruction. 
Her immense pride was the source of all her misfortunes ; 
anything like restraint or reproach, was almost worse than 
death to her already wounded feelings, and she left her 
keepers in succession, careless whether she had a house to 
cover her unhappy head, or a bed ujjon which she might 
rest her miserable, degraded frame. Hurried on hy misfor- 
tunes, she was compelled to visit the Theatres on her own 
account ; but distress upon distress very soon prevented her 
making a decent appearance, and the Boxes and the Saloon 
were cut by the wretched, unfortunate Corinthian Kate. 
Poverty and want have too often effected changes in the 
strongest minds ; and virtue of the most rigid description 
has been known to succumb to the terrors produced by 



24^ lAVE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

starvation. Although the cJiuracter of Kate had long been 
lost to the world, yet she could not screen herself, at times, 
from her own conscience and acute feelings. Reluctant at 
first, but dreadful necessity banished ultimately all her 
scruples, and the once splendid, imperious, high-minded 
Corinthian Kate became the inmate of a dress-house ! * 
This disgusting and almost last stage of infamy experienced 
by the unfortunate women of the town, degraded as she was, 
nevertheless was too much for Kate's susceptibility ; kept 
during the day in beggary, and almost in rags, and at night 
dressed up like a painted doll, sent to the Theatre on specu- 
lation, watched by her landlady or old procuress hired for | 
the purpose, to preclude her from robbing her mistress of 
her wages of prostitution, and also prevent her running off 
with the clothes belonging to her iniquitous employer, soon 
overthrew all the remnants left of her once refined manners 
and mind. She became a prey to melancholy, was neglect- 
ful of her person : her attractions as a Cijprian were gone, 
and, as a matter of course, she could not obtain money 
enough by her prostitution to satisfy the demands of her 
cruel, griping, unfeeling mistress. This latter resjMctab/e 
person in life, whose only idol was money, made up a debt 
for board, lodging, &c., against Kate, and had her arrested 
and thrown into prison, where she remained for several 
weeks, until discharged by Act of Parliament. But freedom 
to Kate was more of an injury than a service to her; she 
had nothing else but starvation before her eyes ; no friends 
to succour her in the hour of trial ; a complete outcast, and 
degraded to the last step of human wretchedness — a street 
walker ! In consequence of her miserable, altered appear- 



* It was the opiuion of Dr Johnson, " that WoiiKN for the most 
part are good or bad, as they fall among those who practise VIKTUE 
or vice ; and that neither education nor reason gives them much secu- 
rity against the influence of example. Whether it be that they have 
less courage to stand against opposition, or that their desire of admi- 
ration makes them sacrifice their principles to the poor pleasure of 
worthless praise, it is certain, whatever be the cause, that female 
goodness seldom keeps its ground against huujhter, flattery, or 
FASHION." 



I,IFE IX AND OUT OF LO>'I)()X. 240 

ancc, with scarcely any clothes upon her back, nay, almost 
in a state of nuditij, she was compelled to walk out nightly, 
after dark, to obtain a miserable pittance, and prostitute 
herself to the lowest blackguard or midnight debauched 
ruffian, for a mere trifle. Such was the lamentable state to 
which this once admired and beautiful woman had brought 
herself ! Drinking was the only refuge she had from her- 
self, and she scarcely remained one hour sober out of the 
twenty-four ; by which means she soon became bloated, 
diseased, little else but a mass of corruption, and one of the 
most abandoned and profligate women on the town. 

There was something so very touching in the groans of 
the unfortvmate female under the Piazza, and they vibrated 
so forcibly on the ears of Tom, that he could not account 
for the strange sensation his feeKngs experienced, when he 
perceived her prostrate on the ground ; he felt as if he had 
been riveted to the sj3ot. The tone of her voice seemed 
like a sound that had once been very familiar to his ear ; 
and he viewed the body under the most terrifying appre- 
hensions. He dreaded to examine, yet his anxiety com- 
pelled him to persevere — but the fine form, the beautiful 
face, and the elegant apparel which always adorned Corin- 
thian Kate, had altogether undergone such a material 
change, that not the slightest traces remained of her 
interesting person. Tom had no recollection of the unfor- 
tunate creature before him, and was about to depart ; but, 
on the watchman lifting her from the ground, and also hold- 
ing up his lantern to her face, the afflicting truth flashed 
across his memory like lightning — he was horror-struck, and 
in the most unspeakable agony, exclaimed, " Good God ! 
it is poor Kate ! " The fumes of the wine vanished in an 
instant, and he became at once perfectly sober. The tears 
rolled down his cheeks in profusion, his powers of utterance 
were withheld, and he pointed with his finger to the cause. 
Tom staggered against the wall, his agitation was so great ; 
and had it not been for the assistance of Logic and Jerry, 
he would have fallen on the stones with the utmost severity. 
The 0.wman, on ascertaining the wretched female was no 



250 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

other tlian Corinthian Kate, was sliocked beyond de- 
scription, and the feelings of poor Jerry were equally dis- 
tressed. At the request of Tom, the Oxonian made several 
inquiries of the watchman respecting his knowledge of poor 
Kate. 

" Upon my conscience," replied the watchman, " the Ladij- 
hird, as she is called, has been one of the most troublesome 
girls on my heat ; although, I understand, she has been but 
a short time upon the town. Indeed, I cannot make her 
out at all, at all. She does such strange sorts of things 
that the bystanders in general will have it she is out of her 
mind ; but, then, to be sure, she is so generous with her 
hhint, and so lady-like in her talk, when she is a little bit in 
her senses, that my ould heart has often melted for her un- 
fortunate situation. Take care of her, you said. Sir; by 

J , that is no easy undertaking ; when she is in some of 

her unruly fits, ten men can scarcely hold her ; she knocks 
her head against the wall, with an intention to kill herself, 
says she will not live, and calls out for one Tom, who, I 
daresay, has been one great big blackguard to her. Poor 
creature, she has been quite the butt and laughing-stock of 
all the girls and fellows about the neighbourhood for some 
time past. The only thing I can do for her, your honour, 
is to take her to the watch-house, until I am off my duty, 
when I will put her under the care of a good ould woman 
until she recovers herself. The Ladybird is very much 
overcome with liquor; but here, Pat," (calling to the other 
watchman) *' lend a hand, and we will soon remove her 
from the cold stones." There was no other place at hand 
where she might receive any assistance towards recovering 
her from her state of stupor, at that time of the morning, 
and our heroes reluctantly consented that she should be 
taken to the watch-house. " Faith," said the watchman, 
*' you need not be so very particular about her now, as wo 
have been often compelled to drag the Ladi/bird before the 
night- constable by force." " Use her kindly," replied the 
Corinthian, " and you shall be well paid for your 
trouble." 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 2ol 

Kate was taken to the watch-house, and, after the ap- 
plication of some restoratives, she breathed freely, and ap- 
peared to recover a little from her dreadful state of mind ; 
but, upon opening her eyes, and looking round the place in 
a wild sort of manner, she immediately recognised the 
Corinthian, and uttering a most piteous, heart-rending 
scream, she was again seized with a violent convulsive fit. 
The situation of Tom, at this instant, may be much easier 
imagined than described ; when, squeezing Logic by the 
hand, " My dear Bob," said he, " I know you have more 
nerve than I possess. I cannot stand this afflicting scene 
any longer — it is too much for my feelings — I must go : 
therefore, permit me to depart ; but, for Grod's sake, by our 
long and valued acquaintance, and on the score of sincere 
friendship, let me request of you to remain behind, and see 
what can be done for my once beloved Kate ; degraded 
and fallen as she may be in the eyes of society, I cannot 
discard her from my memory ; and I think it my duty to 
render her every assistance in my power." Logic, although 
the leader of life and fun, was never insensible to the cause 
of the unfortunate, and no eye ever shewed more tokens of 
real sympathy, when called upon to assist a female in dis- 
tress. The Oxonian, in a pathetic faltering tone, answered, 
" I will ; and you may depend upon it, Tom, I will see 
Kate comfortably situated before I leave her, not o\\\y on 
3'our accovmt, but from my remembrance of her good qua- 
lities in better days." Poor Jekry, whose admiration of 
this once delightful woman amounted to ecstasy, had turned 
aside to wipe away the tears which had so profusely over- 
spread his manly cheeks. Previous to Tom's leaving the 
watch-house, he cast a long but agonising look at the de- 
graded Corinthian Kate, and a sigh of so deejD and 
melancholy a tone escaped his lips, that his heart ajjpeared 
almost broken. He left Bob and Jerry with the utmost 
precipitation, and was out of sight in an instant. 

The unfortunate Kate remained insensible for a long 
time, but the night-constable, a man of feeling, and one 
who filled the office in his own right, rendered her all the 



2'j2 life in and ottt of i,oNnoN. 

assistance in his power, on becoming acquainted with the 
situation of the parties. He offered to procure a comfort- 
able retreat for her, and assured Logic and Jerry that 
nothing should be wanting, on his part, to render Kate 
sensible of her unhappy, degraded situation in society, and 
to prepare her to accept an asylum either in the Peniten- 
tiary or the Magdalen. 

On recovering herself, Kate appeared to feel almost as 
much shocked as when she recognised the Corinthian, on 
beholding Logic and Jerry standing in a dejected manner 
over her person. She immediately burst into a flood of 
tears, and hid her face with both her hands, sobbing aloud. 
" Be comforted," said Logic, " compose yourself — you will 
not hear an unkind word from us. Every exertion shall be 
made to relieve jour mind, and free you from your unhappy 
situation." " Good God ! " exclaimed Kate, " I am now 
degraded indeed. I am past comfort ! Nothing can relieve 
my sufferings in this world but death ! For God's sake, 
leave me, Mr Logic. I entreat you to begone, Mr Haw- 
thorn. If you remain here, I shall never recover my 
reason." Her frame became dreadfully agitated, and she 
was seized with a violent hysterical fit. The scene was 
truly afflicting to the watchmen, but the distress of mind 
and agonised feelings of Logic and Jerry were poignant 
beyond description. 

" I think, gentlemen," observed the night-constable, "you 
had better depart ; the sight of you appears to disturb her 
exceedingly. She shall be lodged safely in my house for a 
few days, and every care taken of her until you may be 
able to make some arrangements for her future mode of life. 
The moment she recovers her senses, I will take her to my 
residence in a coach ; and you can, if you think proper, 
remain at a distance until you see her safely lodged in my 
house. I will send you an account of her health daily, and 
also prepare her mind to give you a meeting." " AVe will 
take 3^our advice," said Logic, " and I hope you will accept 
our best thanks for your kindness and humanilv. Here is 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 253 

a ten-pound note, to defray the expenses for the present ; 
send for a medical man immediately, a physician of the first 
eminence, and let her have a fresh supply of clothes without 
delay ; indeed, let her have everything that may afford her 
relief, and more money shall be sent to you in the course 
of the day." Logic and Jerry followed the advice of the 
night-constable, and after seeing Kate safely conducted to 
the residence of the above officer, they immediately pro- 
ceeded to Corinthian House, and reported progress to Tom, 
respecting the line of conduct they had adopted towards the 
unfortunate Kate. 

Messengers were sent repeatedly by the Corinthian to 
inquire after the health of his once adored mistress ; and, 
by the unremitting attention of the constable and his wife, 
Kate appeared to improve in bodily strength, but the 
mental agony she suffered was excessive. Our heroine was 
continually in tears, and lamenting her unhappy state, occa- 
sioned by her deviation from the paths of rectitude. "When 
pressed to name a day to receive Logic and Jerry, in order 
to prepare her in some degree for a visit from Tom, she 
postponed it from time to time, on account of the shattered 
state of her nerves ; but promised, when she found herself 
able to endure such an interview, she would give timely notice 
to that effect. Kate, after repeated pressing entreaties, at 
length named the day ; but, on the evening previous, taking 
advantage of the absence of the night-constable and his 
wife, she made her escape, as it were, from her apartments, 
and quitted the house, unknown to any person, leaving the 
following letter upon the table, addressed to Corinthian 
Tom:— 

" Dearest and best of men, 

" I have struggled hard witli myself to obtain the victory, but I 
am conquered — I cannot meet you. Although I am very anxious to 
see you once more, previous to taking my leave of you for ever ; yet to 
me, the consequences of such a meeting might prove fatal. The die 
is cast, and I must submit to fate. I am degraded beyond all ho] es 
of redemption in my own eyes : the slightest reproach from you vs^ould 
be worse than death ; and I have made up my mind, that it will bo 



254 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

much the best foi' both of us not to meet. Therefore, T say, adieu, 
dear Tom, for ever. Pursue me no farther ; seek not my abode, as it 
will be useless, but leave me to my wretched self. I am unworthy of 
your care and attention ; and I am fully prepared for the worst, ' Come 
what may ! ' Accept my warmest gratitude for this last act of tender- 
ness and generosity towards me ; it reflects the highest credit upon 
you, as a man of honour and feeling, although it has arrived too late 
to save me from destruction. But let me request of you, as the last 
favour, to erase from your memory that such an unfortunate, despised, 
abandoned creature as Corinthian' Kate ever had existence in this 
world, and my last prayer shall be offered up for your future happi- 
ness. Once more, adieu ! 

"The wretched, agonised, and broken-hearted 

"Kate. 

" P.S. — I cannot, will not, remaiTi in England. The recollection of 
is madness ! If I survive our recent meeting, which is doubt- 



ful, I shall endeavour to seek retirement in a far-distant land. But I 
have lost all tranquillitj- of mind. I despair of finding anything like 
consolation on this side the grave. My hand falters — my brain is on 
fire — and I " 

The constable, on discovering the flight of his unfortunate 
charge, lost no time in communicating the unwelcome intel- 
ligence to two of our heroes at Corinthian House. " I 
am afraid," said he, addressing himself to Logic, " that Miss 
Kate will commit suicide. I and my wife have done all in 
our power to soothe her afflictions, but her grief was so great 
that she refused all consolation ; in truth, she gave herself 
completely up to despair. I have inquired after her at all 
the houses in the neighbourhood of Co vent Garden, and at 
other places where I thought I might gain some tidings 
about her, with the greatest diligence, but all in vain. I 
could not learn any traces of her retreat. However, I will 
not give up the pursuit, and I hope I shall be yet successful, 
as I feel an interest in her fate, much more than anj'thing 
like reward for my exertions can compensate." The 
Oxonian returned thanks to the constable for the feeling he 
had displayed towards the unfortunate woman committed to 
his care ; but observed, owing to the ill state of Tom's 
health, it would be imprudent for hiin to communicate the 
flight of Kate to Tom, until a more favourable opportunity. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 255 

He should, however, advise him not to relax in his exertions 
to find out her place of concealment, and again to take her 
under his care, should he meet with her. In the course of 
a few days the constable should hear from him on the sub- 
ject, and also be well rewarded for the trouble he had taken 
to reheve the sufferings of a female who was the object of 
all their commiseration. The constable took his leave, and 
promised to use his best exertions to get her once more 
under his roof. " I sincerely hope," said Jerry, " that he 
may be successful in his search after Kate, as I know the 
liberal feeKngs of the Corinthian towards her, notwith- 
standing what has occurred ; but I would not experience 
such another dreadful meeting for a fortune. The rapid 
transition in her person to me was horrible, and, had I not 
witnessed it, I could scarcely have believed it possible to 
have taken place. Corinthian Kate, who was once the 
envy of the women, now so reduced as to become disgusting 
to both sexes I " " It is the only instance, amongst the 
thousand w^hich occur in Life in London, that has come 
to your knowledge ; but such afflicting circumstances are 
continually to be met with in the dissipated circles of the 
metropolis," replied Logic ; " and it is agonising to reflect 
on the incalculable number of the finest and most beautiful 
women thus doomed, in the course of a few months, to total 
destruction and death. The Theatres, and other public 
places of amusement are filled and thinned — filled and 
thinned again, in rapid succession, with those unhappy girls 
who dazzle and become the 'playthings of an hour,' until 
dissipation, distress, and disease, compel a hasty exit, and 
they are then heard of no more. Such are the direful 
effects and terrible end of vice and infamy in the metro- 
polis." 



CHAPTER XII. 

Severe indisposition of Tom on account of the mcldcn fi'ujht 
of Corinthian Kate. Sorrow the order of the dmj 
for some time at the residence of Tom. A visit from the 
fat Knight, icho removes grief and restores mirth. Our 
heroes take a Peep at the Houses of Lords and Commons, 
and other Puhlic Institutions xcorthij of notice. Iavv. 
ON THE Water : Tom and Jerry having a pitll for 
the " BEST OF IT." Splinter of no use in the wind. 
Logic in difficulties, and symptoms of " heavy wet," 
or a DRAP too much for the ^^ uncommonlg big Gentleman," 
Trial of Skill — Pigeon Shooting : Tom, Jerry, 
and the fat Knight engaged in a Match. 

The horrid interview with Kate had so eompletelj'' over- 
whelmed the feelings of the Corinthian, that he had 
scarcely been able to quit his bed for several days ; and 
just as he was on the point of recovering in a small degree 
from its afflicting effects upon his mind, the intelligence of 
her sudden flight brought on a relapse. " I am grieved 
beyond expression," said Tom, "at the inconsiderate con- 
duct of this wretched, ungrateful girl. I had determined to 
rescue her from the paths of destruction. It was also my 
intention to have settled an annuity upon her for life, and 
likewise to have placed her in some respectable asylum, 
where she might have spent the remainder of her days in 
peace and quietness. But, alas ! all my plans are frustrated, 
and I dread the consequences. The violence of her disposi- 
tion knows no bounds ; and I am afraid, in a paroxysm of 
despair, she will destroy herself." 

I loved, and mine I prai.sed, <> 

And mine that I was prond of, mine so much, -1 

That I myself was to myself not min(^ 



i 



T.FFK IX AM) 0T:T OF I.OXnON. 257 

Valuing: of her : why she O, she is fallen 

Into a pit of ink, that the wide sea 
Hath drops too few to wash her clean again, 
And salt too little, which may si-asou give 
To her foul-tainted flesh ! 

CoRix'i'iiiAN House, b}^ the above melancholy circum- 
stance, had completely changed its character : — once the 
acknowledged seat of wit, fun, raillery, and laughter, it had 
now become the abode of sorrow, and dulness reigned 
throughout every corner of the residence. Tom positively 
refused to see his most intimate friends, and Logic and 
Jerry could not recover their wonted spirits. However, the 
arrival of the " uncommonly big Gentleman" tended, in a 
great measure, to remove the " Blue Devils," as he said, from 
the house. He did not wish to be thought unfeeling to the 
female in question, and lamented the circumstance exceed- 
ingly ; but, as they had, like good fellows, done everything 
in their power to relieve her misfortunes, he was an enemy 
to perpetual sorrow ; and lengthened grief, he was well 
assured, could not do her any good. He should, therefore, 
propose to Jerry, more especially as he did not wish to 
gallop from grave to gay, to visit the Houses of Lords and 
Commons, the Courts of Law, British Museum, &c. Those 
were serious subjects, and required serious attention ; and, 
he apprehended, at the present period, they might prove 
quite congenial to their feelings ; after which, by way of a 
set-off, he had a proj)osition of a more lively nature to make 
to them, in which they might act as silent spectators, or 
take an active part — a Rowing Match upon the River 
Thames. This sport would not only produce them capital 
exercise, but the change of scene, united with the breezes 
from the water, recruit their spirits, and improve their health. 
" Well said. Sir John," replied Logic, " I am glad to see 
you at this peculiar juncture ; good humour was alwaj's one 
of your most intimate companions, and we never stood in 
need of it so much, to drive away Care, since I have had 
the honour of your acquaintance : therefore, your friendly 
visit will be now hailed with more than welcome." 

Several days were occupied in visiting the House of Lords, 



258 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

the House of Commons, &c., by Sir John, Jp:kry, and 
Logic, in order to give the Corinthian time to obtain a 
perfect state of convalescence, that he might enter into the 
water-party of the fat Knight's with his usual spirit. The 
Oxonian, assisted by Sir John, took great pains to point 
out the talents of the various speakers in both Houses of 
Parliament to Jerry, and they were also extremely minute 
in calKng the attention of the " Young One " to the numerous 
interesting subjects in the British Museum, and other public 
institutions in the metropolis. If Jerry did not appear 
to disjDlay so much animation at the above places as he might 
have done where the attractions were of a more lively nature, 
yet he nevertheless felt their vast importance in society, 
and congratulated himself that he had not left London with- 
out visiting them. To his friend Logic, Jerry' expressed 
his sincere thanks for the valuable remarks he had so often 
received on various subjects from him, and trusted that, at 
some future period, he should be able to turn them to a 
good account. 

The Rowing Match did not produce so much amusement 
as Sir John had previously anticipated, and, therefore, to 
make up for the deficiency of sport, he offered to back 
Jerry against the Corinthian, to row a mile for a " rump 
and a dozen." This challenge was immediately accepted 
by Tom ; boats were provided for them without delay, to 
decide the wager, and Logic was also appointed by Sir 
John to act as umpire on the occasion. The strength of 
Jerry enabled him, soon after starting, to take the lead 
for a short distance, which circumstance so elated the " fat 
Knight," that he began loudly to shout, and play all 
manner of antics, by way of encouragement, to Jerry* to 
keep it up ; but suddenly quitting his seat, and the wind 
being extremely high, he lost his balance and fell over- 
board. This was rather a melancholy change for the " un- 
commonly big Gentleman," who was seen buffeting the 
stream like a porpoise, roaring out lustily for assistance. 
" Help ! help ! help me. Bob Logic, or I shall be drowned I 
Splinter, for God's sake, give me your hand, or I shall be 






LIFE IX AND f)LT OF LONDOX. 259 

lost ! " "I Cim't," replied Splixter, " I liave enough to do 
to take care of myself ; I am so thin, I am afraid 1 shall be 
blown into the water. I have no strength like you, Sir 
JoHX, to contend with such rude elements! " "What are 
you at, Sir ! " said the waterman ; " if you cling to the boat 
so tight, we shall all be upset ; you are heavy enough to 
sink a seventy-four gun ship." After a great de.il of diffi- 
culty and exertion, and almost pulling Logic's hands from 
his wrists, the " uncommonly big Grentleman " had grasj^ed 
them so tightly, he was rescued from his perilous situation. 
" Never mind, Sir JoHX," said Logic, smiling, " you are all 
right now. You must consider it as a cooler, as you were 
so very warm on the subject just now ; a kind of ' henri/ 
tcet,'' and that you have had a ' drap ' too much this bout. 
But pull away, waterman, or else I shall not be able to 
decide this wager." "I will agree to lose the wager, 
Bob," said the fat Knight; "only put ms on shore, I 
am so chilly and cold, and anxious to dry my clothes 
at the first public-house." Logic, although he loved 
his joke, immediately consented to Sir Johx's propo- 
sition : " But," said the Oxonian, " shall I send any of the 
doctors belougfins to the Humane Society to feel vour 
pulse and pronounce you out of danger ? The poor fishes 
have sustained a heavy loss by your escape from a watery 
grave." " Yes, thank heaven," replied the fat Knight with 
much pleasantry, " I have hiiked them this bout ; and I 
assure you, Bob, that I had rather walk than be dragged 
along any time, however friendly disposed the persons 
employed by the Humane Society might be towards my 
carcase." Sir Joiix, on being landed, made for the first 
public-house, crying out, " Any port in a storm I " The 
Oxonian rendered every assistance to disencumber the "un- 
commonly big Gentleman" of his wet clothes, when the 
latter jumped into a warm bed, tossed off two or three hot 
glasses of brandy and water, wished Logic " good night ! " 
and said he would return to London early in the morning, 
and call at Corinthian Ilouac. 

jN'otwithstandiug the superior strength and exertions of 



260 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LOXDdN". 

Jerry to become the conqueror, the kuowledge of tlie 
river possessed by Tom gave him the " best of the match," 
and he won it cleverly. On becoming acquainted with Sir 
John's disaster, they both laughed veiy heartily, but ex- 
pressed themselves well pleased that the "uncommonly 
big Gentleman " had suffered no other inconvenience from 
his accident than a good ducking. The ajopearance of Sir 
John at Corinthian House the next morning was the 
signal for fun and laughter ; but the fat Knight, full of 
good- humour, joined in the jokes of his merry pals, and 
the adventures of the Rowing Mutch were forgotten in the 
course of a few fleeting hours. 

The sudden and totally unexpected flight of Corin- 
thian Kate, just at the moment when a gleam of hope 
appeared to rescvie her from her wretched situation, 
operated upon the feelings of Tom in a way not to be 
depicted ; and he was determined, if possible, regardless 
of any exj)ense, to have her once more under his control, 
on the laudable plea of humanity. He, therefore, made 
the most liberal offers to the Constable and his wife, not 
to relax in their exertions to regain possession of her 
person. Repeated inquiries were made after Kate, at her 
old places of resort, but without the desired effect ; in fact, 
no stone was left unturned to recapture the unfortunate 
creature by the above active ofiicer. The pursuit, when 
not the slightest chance remained to gain some tidings of her 
plan of retreat, was" ultimately given up, under the idea that 
she had quitted the kingdom in disgust, with true penitent 
notions. The plans adopted by Tom, to reclaim her from 
the paths of wickedness, were of so feeling yet secure a 
character, that he had determined to render the remainder 
of her existence comfortable as to personal wants, in spite 
of herself; "but her mind," she had often said, "never 
could be soothed ; and that the sight of those persons wlio 
would always appear to her ' like daggers to her memory,' 
must be avoided by flight." Iler cunning enabled her to 
elude the vigilance of the officer by changing her route ; 
and thus wore tlie benevolent intentions of tlie Cokinihian 
f rust ruled. 



LIFE IN AMI OUT OF LONDON. 2()1 

Mercj' is uot itself that oft looks so ; 
Pardon is still the nurse of second woe I 

In the course of a few days, after the Rowing Match had 
been decided, Jerry, on meeting with the " uncommonly 
big Gentleman," observed to him, " I have a capital day's 
amusement in store for you ; a match at Pigeon Shoot- 
ing ! In fact, I have backed you against the Corinthian, 
to kill more birds out of the trap than he does, provided 
Tom makes use of his walking-stick, as he has bound him- 
self to do, you having the privilege to shoot with any gun 
you think proper." " A urdkiiKj-stick / A fiddle-de-dee! 
Come, come, my Young One," replied Sir John, " I do not 
look iipon mj'self as a very wine one ; but, nevertheless, I 
am not quite such a Jlaf as to believe that Tom or you are 
serious about the matter. It is one of your tricks, Master 
Jerry I " " Indeed, it is no joke, Sir John," answered the 
Corinthian. '•' I am perfectly serious, and if you enter- 
tain any doubts upon the matter, here is the icalking-stick 
I intend to use upon the occasion" {handing it over to the 
fat Knight for his inspection.) " Well, then," said the 
*' uncommonly big Gentleman," " I will venture another 
rump and a dozen, although I have been generally defeated 
in various matches with you, that, if \o\x make use of this 
tcaikii/g-stick, I kill more birds than you do, out of twenty- 
one. It has no sight ! " " Agreed," answered Tom, " it is 
a match." 

On the day appointed to decide the subject in dispute, 
Tom appeared on the giound, with his walking-stick* in 

* The PATENT staff GUN is in the shape of a common walking- 
stick, and is a perfect substitute for that article, when it is not coehd, 
and the ferrule is in the muzzle. It is also less than half the weight of 
the common fowling-piece, and not above one third of the expense, 
It is likewise less dangerous than the common gun ; and the patentee, 
Mr Hubbard, asserts, that a moderate practice will soon enable any- 
one to become a good shot with it. The extent of the invention is 
confined to the usual fair chances of sporting ; it does not pretend to 
the niceties of a rifle shot, or to destroy a pigeon from a trap so cer- 
tainly as with the unwieldy pieces and large charges that are used 
when heavy stakes are depending. 



262 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

his hand, as the plate represents. The fat Knight flattered 
liimself, as he was not considered altogether a bad shot, 
that he should win the match in a canter, and was jolly 
enough to back himself tico to one; but the Knight was 
not aware that Tom had been practising on the sly, with 
the PATENT STAFF GUN, for the last twelve months, and had 
found it answer all the desired purposes, without being half 
the weight of the common fowling-piece. The fat Knight 
prepared for action, exerting himself to the utmost of his 
ability, puffing and blowing like a broken- winded horse, and 
managed to kill ten birds. Great curiosity was evinced on 
the ground by most of the crack shots, to witness the talents 
displayed by Tom with his ivalking-sticlx, against the 
_ feathered tribe. The Corinthian felt confident of success 
— and in a short time he was pronounced the winner, having 
killed twelve birds out of the twenty-one. The " uncom- 
monly big Gentleman " not only acknowledged his defeat, 
but expressed, with cheerfulness, his surprise at the perfec- 
tion and utility of the patent staff gun. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Terrific moments for the thought/ess — Melancholy end of 
CoRiXTHiAN Kate — one of tho.'ie lamentable examples 
of dissipated Life in London. The end of extravagance 
— Tim Splinter, according to the remarks of the 
Oxonian, splintered ; hut, nevertheless, of no service 
to his Creditors. Tom, Jerry, and Logic make a 
friendly call on the High-hred one, in Banco Regis. 
''Away with melancholy !"' or an old favourite air to a 
new tune, nith accompaniments, by a variety of Charac- 
ters. The awful day arrived — the Court in view — "^o 
Ije or not to he opposed, ^^ that is the question. 

It had been the intention of the unhappy Kate, it should 
seem, pre\'ious to her sudden flight from the friendly roof 
of the Constable and his wife, to have quitted the kingdom 
with the most convenient speed, as the only way to obtain 
something like peace of mind. The short period she had 
remained imder the immediate care of Logic, at the ex- 
pense of the Corinthian, and consigned to the soothing 
aid of the wife of the ofiicer, had completely awakened 
Kate to a due sense of her horrid mode of life, and also 
enforced her determination to reform her conduct altogether. 
Her pride, nevertheless, was not to be conquered, although 
she had been reduced to the last extremity of distress ; and 
her feeKngs were too much lacerated, by her own depraved 
behaviour and degradation in life, to endure a serious meet- 
ing, and hear a final proposition made by the Corinthian. 
She therefore preferred flight. To be reinstated in the good 
opinion of Tom was impossible ; but to become an object 
of charity — a mere pauper — dependent on the man she had 
once idolised as her companion, and by whom every care 
had been exerted to gratify her vanity ; now to be kept in 
the shade, aloof from society, during the remainder of her 






264 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

existence, or the finger of scorn continually pointed at her 
jDcrson, wherever she appeared — the bare idea was too 
overwhelming with horrors for her emaciated fi'ame to 
Avithstand. She could not return to her parents — their 
doors were shut against her — and Kate had lost all rela- 
tionship ; in truth, like all unfortunate females of this de- 
scription, she might now be said not to possess a single 
friend in the world ; nay, she was a wretched outcast from 
society. 

Kaie had scarcely quitted the residence of the Constable 
when she was unfortunately met by some of her female 

comiDanions in vice, in company with Old Mother , 

well known in the annals of infamy, at the west end of the 
town, to whom she related her intention of leaving England. 
Finding the personal appearance and dress of Kate altered 
for the better, and also plenty of money in her pocket, the 
Old Beldam immediately dissuaded her from burying her- 
self in a foreign country. The bottle was soon introduced, 
and all her penitent notions were flown in an instant, or 
rather drowned by intoxication. " Come, my dear," said 
the old Procuress, " it would be a shame so fine a woman 
should be lost to the world — a girl like you, who can get so 
much money from gentlemen ! Don't think of such a 
thing ! Foreign parts, indeed ! Why, child, you must not 
be right in your head ! Foreign parts, pooh ! Let me not 
hear any more of foreign parts. You, Miss Kate, that 
have been the toast of the theatres, the masquerades, the 
gardens, &c. Come, my dear girl, take another glass, and 
make your mind happ}', and I'll give you a toast, — ' Here's 
old England for ever ! ' there is no place like it in the world ; 
the blunt magazine for me ! Now, my dear, never let me 
hear you mention any more about foreign parts : the advice 
of all the fellows arn't worth a fardeii ! Why, I supposes 
as how that some straight-haired rascal, like that canting, 
humbug who took away Miss Susan the other day from 
mj^ house, to place her in the Magdalen, or in the Pcinii/ 

• something, to make her, as he said, happy, has been 

torturing of you : hai)py, did T say — I meant misi-rable. 



I 



I.IP'E IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 265 

Therefore, my dear Katk, do not let such rascals get the 
best of you ! O dear, the thought of it is shocking, to a 
young lady like you, who has always had her own way ! 
How could you put ujj with being denied a draj) of drink, 
and not permitted to see any of your male friends? My 
dear, the truth is, I cannot part with you on such terms — 
you v^ould have more liberty allowed to you in a prison. 
You sliall come and live at my house, free of expense. I 
will make you hapjjy and comfortable, j'ou may depend 
upon it ; and where you may drink, eat, sleep, and see any- 
body you like, without control. Come, let us have another 
glass, 3Iiss Kate, you must be dry ; and give up all idcar 
of foreign parts." By this time Kate wa? quite seduced to 
the Old Beldam's purpose ; she became comjiletely intoxi- 
cated, and, with an oath, swore that she would not leave 

England for any person, but stick to old Mother as 

long as she lived, whom she thought, by her kind offer, was 
a real friend — such unfortunate influence had the liquor 
iipon her mind. 

Her abandoned habits, as a matter of course, under the 

direction of old Mother , were again resumed ; but 

she did not visit the Theatres, and other public places of 
amusement, in order that she might escape the vigilance of 
the Xight- Constable, and also to prevent a meeting with 
Tom, Jerry, and Logic. During the time the money 
lasted. Miss Kate, as she was termed, was treated with all 
the respect due to her ; and also, w^hile her wearing aj^parel 
produced the cash, she did not want for something like 
attention to her wants ; but when poverty stared her in 
the face — and no more money could be obtained from her 
purse, she was immediately stripped of the title of ii/i'.ss, 
driven from the parlour to the garret by the Old Beldam, 
and, in fact, she was considered nothing else but a burden 
to this establishment of iniquity. Kate was dail}' insulted 

by the appellation of a lazy b , by old Mother ; 

a quarrel was the result, and poor Kate, still proud enough 
in her sober moments to resent contemptuous treatment, 
in her whirlwind of passion, found herself again in the 
streets, without a house or home. 



266 LIFE IX AND OUT OF LONDON. 

The unfortunate Kate was now reduced to the last 
alternative. Night after night, she was compelled to prowl 
the most obscure alleys and gateways, in spite of wind and 
rain, with scarcely a rag to cover her nakedness, to keep her 
from starvation ; subject to the cruel usage and insults of 
the midnight ruffian, and oftener treated more like a beast 
than one of that tender sex to whom man stands so much 
indebted for his birth and comforts in this world. By day 
compelled to hide herself from the sight of the world, in a 
garret scarcely tenantable ; yet, with all its beggary and 
wretchedness, her priirdions were so great, that she was 
unable to satisfy the demands of a hard-hearted, unfeeling 
landlad}^, who was continually threatening to turn her out 
of doors, if she did not pay her rent. Her sufferings were 
bitter in the extreme ; no pen can portray them, and no 
tongue, however eloquent, can sufficiently bring them home 
to the human heart. Her cup of misery was filled to the 
brim ; nay, more, it was overflowing ; the climax was at 
hand, and there was no relief for the unfortunate Kate, but 
in death ; and well might she exclaim, in the words of the 
Poet :— 

Friend to the wretch whom every friend forsakes, 

I woo thee, Death ! In Fancy's fairy paths, 

Let the gay songster rove, and gently trill 

The strain of empty joy. Life and its joys 

I leave to those that prize them. At this hour, 

This solemn hour, when silence rules the world, 

And weakied Natuee makes a general pause, 

Wrapt in Night's sable robe, through cloisters drear, 

And charnels pale, tenanted by a throng 

Of meagre phantoms shooting across my path 

With silent glance, I seek the shadowy vale 

Of Death ! 

The unconquerable pride of Kate stuck by her till the 
last — she had given up all idea of reconciliation with her 
friends, and hopes in this world, when the horrid thought of 
self-destruction presented itself to her disordered mind ; and 
so firmly was she fixed in her purpose to put an end to her 
troubles, that the last money she raised at the jDawnbroker's 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 207 

was a few pence to purchase a sufficient quantity of poison to 
destroy her life. 

For the last twenty-four hours of her existence, nothing 
had passed her lips ; her cupboard was destitute of the 
smallest sign of provision, and not even a paltry rushlight, 
to keep her from darkness. The night, too, was tremen- 
dous ; vivid flashes of lightning succeeding each other 
through the shattered casement, accompanied by loud and 
y terrific claps of thunder, worked her up to a pitch of mad- 
ness ; and exclaiming, " I can bear this horrid scene no 
longer ! " she seized hold of the phial which contained the 
poison, and b}" the aid of a flash of lightning, hastily drank 
off its contents, then threw herself upon the bed, to await 
her speedy dissolution. It was not long before the poison 
began to operate on her emaciated frame ; she started up 
in the greatest agony, writhing to and fro, from the baleful 
effects of the potion she had swallowed, and fell violently 
on the floor, uttering, in the most plaintive tones — ■" Oh, 
my poor father ! Mother, mother, do not curse your un- 
hapjjy child — Tom, Tom, it was my wish to have parted 

with you, but God forg " The last breath had now 

escaped her lips — and the horrid deed had been too fully 
accomplished. 

But if there is an hereafter, 
And that there is, Conscience, uninfluenced 
And suffered to speak out, tells every man, 
Then it must be an awful thing to die ! 
More horrid, yet, to die by one's own hand. 
Self-murder I name it not I Unheard-of tortures 
Must be reserved for such. 

The old landlady,* hearing something fall heavily upon 



* Persons living in the country, particularly those in retired life, can 
scarcely bring their minds to believe that such wretches have existence 
in the world : but, alas ! it is too true, that hundreds of old women, 
like the landlady of the unfortunate Kate, are to be met with in the 
worst parts of the Metropolis ; nothmg else hu^ Jieuds, in the shnpe of 
females, who are lost to every sense of feeling, save that of getting 



268 LIFE IN AND OUT OK LONDON. 

the ground, accompanied, as she thought, with a groan, was 
induced to crawl up to the garret, to ascertain the cause, 
and likewise to inquire after her rent. On opening the 
door, she perceived the body of the unfortunate creature 
prostrate upon the floor (as represented in the plate), but 
instead of shewing anything like compassion towards Kate, 
she began to abuse the corpse. " Get up, you drunken 
beast ! " said she, " and do not lay there the whole of the 
night ! You had much better haA^e paid me my rent, you 
wretch, than to have squandered away the money in liquor ! 

Get up, I say " After calling her several times, she 

also touched the body of Kate with her foot ; but finding 
it had no effect, she lustily called out for help to the un- 
fortunate girls in the different rooms of her house. " Here, 
Nan, you faggot ! Ragged Bet ! Saucy Sal ! — come up, 
come ujD ! — the beast, I believe, is dead, or else sJianunuKj 
of it. What business had she to die here, I wonder, without 
paying my rent, and putting me to so much trouble and 
expense ! All the toggery upon her carcase wouldn't furnish 
a mop ! But it is just like the proud hunter. But she 
shan't lay long here : I'll soon have her out of my place. 
Sal, run to the workhouse, and tell the overseers to send a 
shell for her ; I am sure she has no friends to put her under 
ground." But this unfeeling brute in female attire had 
calculated rather too quickly upon the removal of the un- 



MONEY, and to procure whicli they would not hesitate to commit miu-- 
der. The sufferings and treatment experienced by the reduced, beg- 
gared pi'ostitiites, are terrifying beyond recital, when their personal 
appearance and dress cease to attract attention. The law does nut 
reach such characters, without some direct offence has been comniit- 
ted against the peace ; and then, by the influence of their money, thej' 
are enabled to procure tliat sort of evidence against the victims of 
poverty and distress, as to prove triumphant nine times out of ten. It 
it were possible for innocent females only to witness one of those afflict- 
ing scenes — to listen to the heart-rending tales of woe of some of the 
poor girls, respecting the modes adopted to decoy them from their 
homes, by the artifices and schemes of procuresses, the example would 
prove so terrilic, that many a poor wnjtch who has died imheciled and 
forgotten, might have livttl, and proved an ornainent to sociotj'. 



i 



LIFE IX AM) OUT OF LONDON. 200 

fortunate creature from her wretched hovel of infainy. It 
was soon discovered by the parish officers that Cortnthiax 
Kate had died by poison ; and therefore a Coroner's 
inquest was absolutely necessary to be held upon the body. 
After a proj^er investigation of the matters connected with 
the subject, the Jury returned a verdict of insanity. Thus, 
dreadfully, to the feeling mind, terminated the thoughtless, 
abandoned career of the once-idolised, highly-flattered 
CoRiKTHiAN Kate ; and all the false pride, upstart vanity, 
and ruinous attempts at ambition, which had disgraced her 
character, and proved her overthrow in life, were consigned 
to the small space of a wooden-s/ie/l ! Dying in obscurity, 
likewise living under assumed names from time to time, 
her relatives and friends had lost all traces of her residence, 
and her body was not claimed for decent burial ; in conse- 
quence of which her unhappy remains were deposited 
amongst the paupers, in a free part of the parish burying- 
ground, exhibiting- an awful monument of one of those 
lamentable but too numerous examples of dissipated Life 

IX LoXDOX. 

The melancholy end of Kate's life would have remained 
for ever unknown to Logic and Jerry, and her flight to a 
foreisrn land have been considered as the cause of her not 
being seen, had not her death been discovered by the fol- 
lowing circumstance : — Ragged Bot, a low, impudent, brazen- 
faced jDrostitute, was brought before the ]S^ight- Cons table, 
on a charge of robbing a gent of his thimhie ; when that 
officer, recollecting her face as being one of the midnight- 
companions of the late unhappy Kate, questioned her very 
closely on the subject, and she related the above particulars 
concerning her flight, death, and burial. He immediately 
communicated the intelligence to Logic and Jerky, Avho 
liberally rewarded the Constable for his exertions, but, at 
the same time, made him enter into a solemn promise that 
he would keep the death of Kate, particularly under such 
melancholy circumstances, a profound secret from Corix- 
THiAX Tom. "As I am too well aware," said the Oxonian, 
" that ignorance must prove i/m- to his acute feelings, on a 



270 LIFE IN AND OIT OF LONDON. 

subject more heart-rending to him than any other circum- 
stance connected with the whole history of his life." 

The absence of the High-bred One from Corinthian 
House, ultimately began to create inquiries after his wel- 
fare, by Tom and Jerry ; and the fat Knight also declared, 
that he was equally in the dark, as to the neglect of his long 
friend Splinter towards the party ; but he was rather 
apprehensive for his safety, as he had not seen him since 
their excursion on the water ; he then left Splinter in a 
high gale of wind, and it was not unlikely but he might 
have been blown away. " No, no," said Logic, smiling, "• I 
should rather have it, that the Long One is ^ icanfed : ' the 
Z/A^;/ /'-finder and he, when last together, I know well, could 
not agree upon any terms ; and some indirect threats were 
made against the person of Splinter, by Old Screw, if 
he did not fulfil certain contracts within a specified time ; 
which, I am sure, from the deranged state of his finances, 
and his extravagant disposition, he cannot ; therefore, I 
should not be surprised if he was, at this present moment, 
under the especial protection of the King's servants, and 
also ordered by his bod// physician to drink the Dolphin 
Wafers for a few weeks, for the benefit of his constitution." 

" The Dolphin Waters ! Dolphin Waters ! " echoed Sir 
John, " they are quite new to me ; I never heard of them 
before. What are the peculiar qualities they are distin- 
guished for in the opinions of the doctors ? What con- 
plainfs are they good for. Bob ? But I suppose thc}^ re- 
quire a trip to the Continent, to drink of them ? Be kind 
enough to let me know all about their efficacy." " You 
will have no occasion. Sir John," replied the Oxo)iian, with 
a comical face, that would have set all gravity at defiance, 
"to go to the Continent to drink of the Dolphin Wafers, 
although it is absolutely necessary that you must cross the 
water before you can obtain relief. It has been very 
strongly urged that, upon most points, ' doctors disagree ; ' 
but, ratlier strange to state, yet undoubtedly true, the 
learned doctors are all agreed that the Dolphin Waters are 



LIFE IX AND OUT OV LOXDOX. 271 

gool for ALL co/np/aiiifs ! and speedy rtV/p/" may be obtained 
by the use of them. They have a wonderful effect in stop- 
pnges of the dicst ; they likewise have a kind of cleariiKj 
quility, something after the manner of StiAKESPfiRE, to 

Minister io a mind diseased; 

Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, 

Eaze out tlie written troubles of the brain ; 

And, with some oblivious antidote, 

Cleanse the stuff' d bosom of that perilous stuff 

Which weighs ujion the heart ! 

They also give you the opportunity of ascertaining your 
exact value in society, and enable you to distinguish your 
real from your pretended friends. Their virtues are so well 
known in all parts of England, that folks far and near come 
to drink of them ; nay, man}" persons have left the East 
Indies to partake of their imrifyincj qualities. In short, the 
gay old cock becomes renovated in the same space of time 
as the young sprig. Age is no bar to their efScacy upon 
the constitution ; and the boasted advantages appertaining 
to youth, in this instance, gain nothing by it. The Dolphin 
Waters may likewise be had gratis ; yet several persons 
have been fastidious enough to refuse to drink of them ; 
but there is no accounting for matters of taste !" " Bravo, 
BoiJ ! " rej)lied Tom ; " your dissertation on the efficacy of 
the DoJjjhin Waters does credit to your understanding ; 
but I am rather surprised. Sir Johx, that you should have 
suffered yourself to have been got into such a line by the 
Oxonian ; however, I will ciit the matter short — take a 
stroll into the King's Bench, and, if you require any further 
explanation respecting the Dolphin Waters, you will find 
plenty of the Collegians quite eloquent upon the subject." 
" Well, I must confess," answered the fat Knight, " that I 
have been completely deceived by Mr Logic ; but, never- 
theless, the description of the Dolphin Waters has been so 
well xcorked-up, in such an artist-like manner, by my friend 
Bob, that I candidly acknowledge I am more pleased with 
the information I have obtained respecting their qualities 
than otherwise." 



272 LIFE IN AND OLT OF LONDON. 

The absence of the Iligh-hred One was soon exphiined by 
the following note, received by Logic : — 

" Dear Bob, 

" This does not come /^ojj-piug ; in truth, I wish I could hop 
to you : but Old Screw has turned round upon me, before I was 
aware of his intentions, and deprived me of giving him one of my 
quickest securities — LEG-bail ! Nevertheless, I am indebted to the 
kindness of Old Screw for a seaire residence ; he has also placed 
me out of ' harm's way,' where duns dare not intrude ; nor can any 
danger be apprehended from the carts and horses. Communicate the 
agreeahle intelligence to ToM, Jerry, and Sir John, that I am ' taken 
care of ; ' likewise, that I keep good hours, and am always to be found 
' at home.' Give me a friendlj' call without delay, and I remain, 



" Yours truly, 

" Tim Splinter. 



" Banco Regis, 6 in 2." 



"Splinter is splintered /" exclaimed Logic; " he is all 
to pieces, and it will be a few weeks, I am afraid, before he 
can be made ic/tole again ! " I am not at all surprised, but 
very sorry, at this piece of intelligence," answered Sir Johx. 
" Indeed, to tell the truth, I have long expected such an 
intimation respecting Splinter, as this note contains. I 
heard he lost a large sum at ^^/r?// the other evening ; and 

his very expensive establishment " "Yes," said the 

Oxonian, " horses, dogs, play, rich wines, fine women, and a 
few other little necessary apjDcndages, to obtain the character 
of a man of fashion in London, require rather a long and a 
strong purse to keep the game alive ; but as our friend, you 
know. Sir John, was only the sjjlinfer of a heavy swell, 
it surely cannot be surprising that he has broken down in 
the race." " Misfortunes to you, Bob, seem * trifles light as 
air,' " observed the Corinthian ; " and you always endea- 
vour to put a good face upon a bad matter. You certainly 
have great pretensions to the character of a philosopher." 
" I feel obliged, Tom, by the compliment you have paid to 
me," replied Logic, " but whether I am entitled to the cha- 
racter of a PHiLosoi'HER Or not, it has always been my 
maxiin hitherto through my career, and it is likewise my 
intention to act upon the same princii)le to tlie end of the 



LIFE IX AND OUT OF LONDON. 273 

cli ipter — to ' hear up ' against the vicissitudes of this life. 
The Revolution of a few days in London performs miracles. 
I have ^vitnessed the great banker, supposed to be worth 
millions at ten o'clock in the morning, reduced to his last 
shilling by dinner-time, and, before night, locked up in jail, 
as a debtor. I have also seen the wheel of fortune* turn 
round, and change a pauper, in the course of a few fleeting 
hours, into the rich landed proprietor ; therefore, a man 
under any circumstances, however desperate, in my humble 
opinion, should always hope for the best, and rather cling 
to the cheerful side of the picture — under the consolatory 
reflection, that his misfortunes might have been worse — than, 
coward- like, suffer his spirits to be cast down, pine and fret, 
and ultimately break down under his burden." 

" That is exactly my idea uj)on the subject," said Jerry, 
" and I propose that we lose no time, but all of us pay 
Splinter a visit, to wdtness how he bears up * against 
restraint ! ' " " Restraint ! " echoed the Oxonian, " you can 
scarcely term it confinement. It is true, that 3'ou cannot hunt, 
shoot, course, sport your tandem, or drive your barouche ; 
but your mind may be actively employed in the College ; 
you can read, study, or draw ; and, as for exercise, what 
can be finer for the constitution than a game of fives, or a 
match at rackets. It is equally true, that you are under 
lock and key, and separated at nine o'clock in the evening 
from your wives, friends, and acquaintances, which is rather 
a touching affair to the feelings, I must admit ; but throughout 
the whole of the day, from half-past eight in the morning, 
the intercourse is perfectly free from anything like restraint ; 
and a prisoner f may manage his affairs with considerable 



* At one period of the career of Napoleon, it might have been 
considered a safe bet, £500 to £1, that the Bourbons were never rein- 
stated on the throne of France ; yet such are the changes in this life, 
that the almost conqueror of the world died an exile in St. Helena ; 
and Louis the Eighteenth, after an absence from France for nearly 
twenty-two years, was restored to his kingdom and his crown. 

t This term is considered rather like a note out of tune, upon the 
ears of the persons in Banco Beyis, and it is only novices who make 

T 



► 



274 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

expedition. Indeed, convenience and assistance to tlie Col- 
legians liave been studied ; and messengers are always in 
attendance, to convey messages to any part of the Metropolis, 
and who return with answers with the utmost facility. It is 
likewise well known, that several persons who have been 
sent to tlds College, destitute of the smallest coin belonging 
to his Majesty's realm, have, in a short time, procured a 
decent living inside, who would have been totally at a loss 
to have obtained half a maintenance outside of Banco Regis. 
It can scarcely be denominated a prison — if confinement is 
the argument." 

To visit the " High-bred One " was now the object in 
view, and Tom, Jerry, Logic, and the " fat Knight," were 
soon ushered into the presence of Splinter, in Banco Regis. 
The " High-bred One" met them full of confidence, appeared 
quite cheerful, and perfectly at his ease. " I am always at 
Jwme,'^ said he to Sir John, " without the fear of ' trouhJe- 
some customers ; ' * a knock at the door does not annoy me 



use of it ; therefore, the appellation of Collegian is not only urged 
to possess more harmony in the sound, but the etymology of the phrase 
is considered indisputable by the Aljjha and Omega Gents. Banco 
Regis, most certainly, is a College, in every sense of the word — it con- 
tains lots of ivranyhrs ; and also, it cannot be denied, that numbers of 
iynorant folks, who have been sent to study only for a few weeks within 
its walls, hoiv to improve their situations in life, have left Banco Begis 
much wiser in the head, if not richer in the pocket ! 

* Duns, loungers, small-talkers, and fellows who want to fill up their 
time at the expense of other people, must look in upon some of their 
acquaintances, to make out the day, and who thus rob literary men, 
artists, &c., of their most valuable stock in trade — time ! It was the 
opinion of an artist of celebrity, that he never enjoyed so much " real 
liberty of the subject " as during the time he was compelled to take up 
his residence in the Fleet Prison. To use his own words, " My mind," 
said he, "was quite free from the harass of duns; my studies were 
never interrupted without I permitted them ; and if, by chance, I was 
annoyed by any persons, I had only to go to the gate, and express my 
disaiiprobation to the turnkey, and the intruders, whether he or she, 
were instantly lockcd-out ! " This latter phrase may appear rather 
strange to the novice ; but it is true, that several persons have felt 
more hiu-t at the 2^i<'>tishment of being locked-out against their will, than 
hundreds of those characters who are IvcJied-iv for suspicion of debt. 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 275 

as heretofore ; and those friends who honour me with a call 
are never disappointed. I am surrounded, as you perceive, 
with all sorts of characters — suspicious ones, no doubt ; but as 
I am not an inquisitive sort of cfiap, I do not trouble myself 
— in fact, I am not industrious enough to become acquainted 
with their affairs ; and, as a matter of course, I keep my own 
secrets. Therefore, my dear friends, do not expect any enter- 
tainment from me, in the auecdote line, respecting my Brother 
Collegians. Eiitre )ious, I will be explicit : the amount which 
has sent me to College, many persons of fashion would deem 
a mere trifle ; others, whose ideas of life are more confined, 
lift up their eyes, and call it a large sum ! * Be that as it 
may, the evil day could no longer be put off ; and I must exert 
myself to get over \ny difficulties. It is my intention to act 
honourably to all parties ; therefore I do not mean to neglect 
the opportunity which presents itself. I have been too 
long in the dark ; my eyes are now opened, as to future 
prospects — and I have no inclination to remain a Collegian 
the remainder of my life. It is one consolation to my feel- 
ings, that, although taken in execution, my creditors cannot 
hung me." 

" I am glad to find you in such good spirits," observed 
Logic, smiling ; " have you made out your Bvnefit-hiU f " 
" Not yet," replied Splinter ; " it will require considera- 
tion : it contains too mucb tragedy for some folks, and 
not enough comedy in it for others. It partakes more of 
the melo-drama ; the various scenes depict the thoughtless 
spendthrift — the runaway pursued by John Doe and Richard 
Roe : the hero, at length, touched with his misfortunes — 
secured in the fortress — and waiting in suspense for the day 



* It has been a matter of dispute, whether the hlot does not r- main 
the same on a man's esctdclicon, in the eyes of the world, no matter 
under what circumstances he might have been relieved from his debts 
by the benefit of the Insolvent Act. The sum is of little consec|uence, 
in the opinion of society ; and the finger of scorn is j ust as likely to be 
pointed (as to the principle of the thing) at the man who has been 
tvhiteioushtd for a pair of top-boots, as against the individual who " has 
ylveii it,'' as the term goes, " for tens of thousands to his creditors ! " 



276 LIFE IN ANP OUT OF LONDON. 

of judgment." " I am aware it must be a long bill," an- 
swered the Oxonian ; " and a ' New Way to Pay Old Debts,' 
will be rather too hacknied a piece for you ; therefore, if you 
would allow me to dictate to you, I should propose the farce 
of ' Lock and Key ; ' also, by way of prelude, the ' Schedule 
Fever;"* and the whole to conclude with 'The Dis- 
charge!'" "Nothing could be more to the purpose," 
said Splinter, " but I am afraid the Manager would 
not sign it ; besides, I am not exactly up in the part yet ; 
and I should not like to be detected as imperfect in my tale 
before the public, and sent back to College to re-study my 
character. However, a truce to any more jokes on a serious 
subject, Bob ! " 

" You are quite aware, Sir John," observed Splinter, 
" that the Collegians must not be seen at Epaoni ; t neither 
can we shew ourselves at Ascot ; nor are we able to put in 
an appearance at Doncaster Races ; but, nevertheless, there 
are moments of enjoyment within our reach, and we con- 
tent ourselves with the variety of sports catered for our 
amusement at ' Tenterden Park Races ! ' " "I never heard 
of those Races before the present instance, and I believe 
they cannot be found in the Racing Calendar," said Sir 
John ; " therefore, with all your sang froid, Mr Splinter, 
I am not to be imposed upon — Tenterden Park Paees,+ in- 



* A sort of uneasiness, or, rather, a disease of the mind. The inhabi- 
tants of Banco Regis are very subject to this disorder ; more especially 
as the day draws near for the investigation of their accounts. This 
fever is attended with doubts and fears, accompanied with serious 
apprehensions that opposition may be made against their schedules, 
when before the Commissioners at the Court, in order to prevent their 
discharge ! 

t Without Epsom Races should occur during Term time ; then the 
case is altered, and the Collegian can obtain a horse to carry him to 
the Downs, " to transact his affairs," provided he complies with the 
Bules to be observed on euch occasions. 

J Formerly denominated Abbott's Priory ; but, since the elevation 
of the learned Pundit to the Peerage, in honour of the noble Lord, they 
are now called Tenterden Park Paces. This celebrated Park is en- 



T.TFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 277 

deed ! ha ! ha ! " " Upon my honour," replied the " High- 
bred 0)ie," " I am in earnest : you are now in Tenterden 
Park ; and in the course of an hour the sports will com- 
mence. Come with me, Sir John, and be satisfied of the 
truth of the matter, by the written bill you see pasted 
against the wall." 

SPOETS AT TENTERDEN PARK RACES. 

Tlie Cameza Stakes, for Fillies of all ages — either insiders or 
outsiders of the College — weights out of the question — the ladies to 
shift for themselves : 

HEATS. 

Mr Chum Ticket's Five Bob Green. 

Counsellor Bail-above's Fancy ----- Blue. 

Mr Jigger Dubber's Screw ------ Pink. 

Mr Solicitor Habeas' s Remove ----- Yelloiv. 

Mr Outsider's Liberty -------- Wliite. 

The Kid Stakes, or Nvb Work. — Five rolls, covered with treacle, 
suspended by strings ; the boys to have their hands tied behind them ; 
the kid who knaws off the first roll shall receive two boh. Also, the 
boy who first selects sixpence out of a bushel of flour in a tub, with 
his mouth, will be entitled to one shilling and sixpence, and no 
charge made for the flour. Lastly, Bobbing for Oranges out of a 
hogshead of water ; the winner shall not only be presented with the 
oranges which his mouth has obtained, but receive one shilling, and 
have his water-excursion free of expense. 

To conclude with picking up a number of stones, placed one yard 
distant ; and likewise a Gingling Match : if the man who agitates 
the tinkler is caught within the space of twenty minutes, the bell 
shall not only be taken from his possession, but the winner shall re- 
ceive a leg of mutton, and be allowed the liberty to invite as many 
coves as he likes to partake of the mutton, when dressed for supper, 
and no questions asked. 

By order of the Committee. 

God save the King. 



closed by a high brick- wall, in order to prevent the stare of the vulgar ; 
indeed, as Splinter jocularly observed, the ladies cannot even obtain 
a peep at the dear fellows ! It is true, the Racing Ccdendar does not 
recognise them ; but, however accurate that journal may be in most 
respects, it does not announce all the s2^orts in the kingdom. 



278 LIFE IN AND OUT OF T,ONDON. 

" If you cast your eyes, Sir John, towards tlie lainp-posf, 
you will perceive an article floating in the air, ornamented 
with blue ribbons, and also a fine leg of mutton hanging by 
its side, prizes for the successful candidates." " I do," an- 
swered the " uncommonly big Gentleman," " and one of the 
articles you allude to appears to me the nearest garment 
worn by a female — that is, a shift!'' "Exactly so," said 
Splinter, " but termed here, by the young and old Col- 
legians, the ' Cameza Stakes,' for fillies * of all ages, one 
heat ; and I have no doubt but excellent sport will be wit- 
nessed in the races, as you are quite aware. Sir John, that 
the exertions of the ladies must, at all times, be admitted 
interesting." " I think," observed Jerry, " if you had 
stated in your bill of fare, ' The Adventures of a Chemise ; 
or, an opportunity for the ladies to shift for themselves,' 
you might have obtained more subscribers." 

The young females, who were induced to put their best 
leg foremost, for this most essential article belonging to a 
lady's wardrobe, were all outsiders, upon whom Fortune 
had not showered her richest favours ; they voluntarily 
entered themselves at the post, and were also named after 
some well-known Gents in the College. This sporting sort 
of christening produced a great deal of merriment ; but, 
nevertheless, it was deemed necessary by the spectators, in 
order to offer bets upon the first and second favourites with 
something like certainty, and likewise to decide as to the 
winner, who might claim the title of Heroine of the Chemise. 
Tom, Jerry, Logic, and the "fat Knight," entered into all 
the spirit of the sports ; and the Corinthian declared 
that he had been highly amused by the variety of prizes 
given by the Stewards of Teuterden Park Races. " Yes," 
replied Splinter, '* I am hapj)y to inform you that the 
sport this day has so much diverted the Collegians, that 



* This jilirase is now so commonly used in a sporting point of view, 
without meaning anj^ offence to the fair sex, that it woukl be almost 
too fadidiims to make any objections to it in this instance — the 
CiiHi'iiid.us we cannot accuse of want of gullantry. 



I-TFE IN AM) OUT OF LOiNUON. 270 

most of them have not had time to give their own all'air.s a 
single thought : the blue devils have been beaten out of 
the field, and their minds much relieved : — 

Pale Melancholy sat retired ! 

But, O, how altered was its sprightlier tone, 

When Cheerfulness, a nj-mph of healthiest hue, 

Her bow across her shoulder flung. 

Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, 

Blew an insj^iring air, that dale and thicket rung I 

Such are the advantages of ' Away with Melancholy ' upon 
the constitution, in a place of confinement ; and I regret 
that a late Law Lord* should have thought it necessary to 
abridge the amusements of the Collegians ; his intentions 
were, I have no doubt, calculated, in his mind, to answer 
the best purposes ; but cheerful men are more likely to do 
themselves and their creditors justice than persons of an ill- 
natured disposition, or those characters who have been 
soured by repeated disappointments in life." 

" I perfectly coincide with your sentiments," said Logic, 
" and I feel well assured that men labouring under depres- 
sion of spirits cannot conduct their affairs with ability. I 
am also very glad to see you so well reconciled to your 
cage ; I must confess that I did not expect to meet you so 
cheerful."t " In truth," answered Splinter, " I have no 
complaints to make against the treatment I have hitherto 
experienced from all the TutorsX in the College ; indeed, 

* The games of skittles and four-corners were formerly allowed for 
the amusement of persons confined in Banco Regis, until they were 
prohibited by the late Lord Kenyon. 

t The late Dr Goldsmith observed on this subject — " For my own 
part, I never pass by one of our prisons for debt, that I do not envy 
that felicity which is still going forward among those people, who 
forget the cares of the world by being shut out from its ambition." 

I TurnJceys. These persons may be viewed in the light of Tutors ; 
they have it in their power to make comj^laints to the Head of the 
College, if their instructions are not attended to by the Collegians. 
The punislivient is of the most summary nature ; the Superior can 
order the offending party to be locked in the strong-room for a week, 
or a month, at his discretion, without any appeal. 



280 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

their deportment to me has been of the most civil desciip- 
tion. If every inmate of Banco Regis keeps an eye upon 
his own conduct, and attends to the instructions offered to 
his notice, he will have little to apprehend from the terrors 
of the strong-room." 

Our heroes partook of a capital dinner with Splinter, 
in his room, 6 in 2, ordered at the expense of Sir John 
Blubber, and made themselves as jolly over their wine, and 
as much at -their ease, as if they had been seated in the fat 
Knight's Snuggery. ''The day of judgment will arrive," 
said Logic, jocosely, " and I hope, Splinter, you will be 
bang-up with your answers, in case of opposition, when 
presented to the Commissioners." "I have not exactly 
made up my mind on the subject," answered the " High- 
bred One ; " " indeed, I shall, if possible, avoid the Act 
altogether." " You had much better," said the Oxonian, 
with a grin upon his countenance, " if you do not possess a 
good swallow." " I do not comprehend your meaning, ex- 
actly," replied Splinter; "I think I have satisfied you 
this day that I possessed a capital appetite at dinner ! " 
" Pshaw ! I do not allude to your appetite," urged Logic — 
" if you cannot swallow your carriage and horses, your dogs, 
your villa, &c., or, in other words, gulj) them down your 
throat at once, there will be little hopes for a gentleman in 
your predicament to hop, skip, and jump over the Insolvent 
Act with ease and propriety." " I am still in the dark," 
said Splinter. " You were not wont to be so dull, cousin," 
answered Logic ; " however, I will render myself intelli- 
gible to you bej^ond all doubt ; and the Corinthian, who 
was an eye-witness of the circumstance, will confirm my 
assertion. A few days since, Tom, Jerry, and myself 
strolled into the Court, when a Deaf and Dumb man, of the 
Jewish persuasion, presented himself to the notice of the 
Commissioners, to obtain his discharge under the Act of 
Parliament. 

" The Deaf and Dumb Man made motions with his fin- 
gers, by way of answers to the questions put to him in 



I.IFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 281 

writing, and rendered himself perfectly intelligible to the 
Court. He had originally been an itinerant dealer in very 
poor articles in the trinket line, which he carried in a box 
before him through the streets of London ; by degrees, 
however, he gave up the box for a little shop, and ulti- 
mately became a general merchant of some consequence. 
He was opposed on account of several valuable gold watches, 
and other articles of jewellery, which he had not accounted 
for in his schedule ; and when asked, by the proper officer 
of the court, what he had done with them, the Deaf and 
Dumb Man, without any hesitation, opened his mouth as 
wide as possible, and pointed with his finger down his throat, 
signifying that he had swalloiced them ; or, in other words, 
that he had lived ujDon the gold watches, and found them 
capital food. Several other articles of the same description 
he had also sicalloiced, without the least difficulty ; but in 
the course of the examination there appeared to the Counsel 
who opposed the Deaf and Dumb Man a stumbling-block 
which he thought it wotdd be impossible for him to get 
over. Being asked what had become of several tons' weight 
of iron, made up in immense bars, he, with the utmost sa)ig 
froid, again opened his mouth — in fact, almost stretched it 
from ear to ear, after the celebrated clown, Joey Grimaldi's, 
mode of extension — and pointing his finger as before down 
his throat, signified likewise that he had sicalloiced the im- 
mense bars of iron. This settled the business, by the Com- 
missioner observing to the learned Counsel that the Deaf 
and Dumb Man appeared to have such a good digestion, it 
would perfectly be a waste of time to put any more ques- 
tions to him upon the subject, it being quite clear to the 
Court that, if it had suited the Deaf and Dumb Man, the 
Monument would scarcely have pj-oved enough for his 
breakfast, Westminster Abbey merely a dinner, and his 
digestive qualities were of so disjjosable a nature, that ST 
PAUL'S might be dished up as a tit-bit for his supper." 
" Yes," said Jerry, " he certainly proved himself dmnb to 
his creditors, deaf to his accounts, but completely up to the 
Act of Parliament." 

"I cannot make a turnpike-road of my throat," replied 



282 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

Splinter ; " neither is my tongue capacious enough for a 
race-course ; and my /«p.s, I am confident, cannot be made 
tcide enough to admit a pack of hounds ; therefore, the sub- 
ject is at an end for the present. But, before we separate 
this evening, let us pop into the Free and Easy Club at the 
Tap, and take a parting glass over some Imperial. I will 
not say much for the chaunting, although in many instances 
above mediocrity ; but I praise the intent of the meeting, 
and, while I remain at College, I shall always give it my 
warmest support. A dull hour is not only got rid of with 
mirth and humour, but what is much better, the cause of 
Charity is served here with a sincerity of feeling that is 
not often met with at the most eloquent charity sermon ; 
and the best-bred men of family and distinction in Banco 
Regis feel it no disgrace to act as presidents upon such 
occasions." * Our heroes enjoyed themselves up to the last 
minute ; in fact, until the watchman proclaimed the hour, 
and cleared the room of its inmates. " We shall soon meet 
again," said Sir John, " and, I hope, under better circum- 
stances, Splinter ; therefore, the best advice I can give you 
is, to get OUT as fast as possible." 



* In numerous cases, several prisoners who have been discharged 
by the Act, but detained in Banco Regis for the amount of their fees, 
have not only by the above means been enabled to relieve themselves 
at the gate, but the subscriptions collected of pence, sixpences, and 
shillings, entirely voluntarily, at the above Club, have enabled several 
worthy objects to pay their coach fare to the extremity of the kingdom, 
discharge their expense on the road, and also have a little money left 
in their pockets, to purchase jDrovisions for a week or two, when re- 
turned to the bosom of their iamilies, who otherwise might have re- 
mained incarcerated, in a starving condition, for mouths. The Col- 
legians are likewise extremely loyal ; they never close the meeting 
without the anthem of God save the King. Six and seven pounds 
have been collected on several occasions, according to the merits of 
the petitioner ; and a second subscription has been commenced, if the 
first collection was found to be insufficient. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

A Peep at the Tower of London. The last Vmt to " the 
Snuggery : " icant of resolatioii, and the dangerous 
effects of Champagne on gay minds. Jerry, in a state 
of inebriation, decoyed, by a dashing Cyprian, into a 
public Brothel : the Hotel on Fire during the night, and 
the " Young One " narrou-ly escapes ivith his life. His 
feelings undergo a complete change. An outline of the 
Cyprian's history, Ellen Prettyflower : her refor- 
mation in consequence of the fire, and entrance into the 
Female Penitentiary- Jerry determined to give up 
all thoughts of Life in London ; to retire from the 
Day and Night Scenes altogether : moralises on his late 
imminent danger, and almost miraculous escape from 
death. Logic rapidly declines in health. The Ox- 
onian makes his Will. His advice to Jerry before 
his Exit. Epitaph on Logic, ivritten by the Corin- 
thian. 

After viewing the curiosities and antiquities in the Tower 
of London, with the utmost satisfaction and delight, our 
heroes, according to appointment, went to dine and spend 
the day with Sir John at his " Snuggery.^' The " uncom- 
monly hig Gentleman " received them in the warmest man- 
ner possible ; but observed, " I wish ' the bird* in yonder 
cage confined' was here; then we should be complete." 
" The last time I was at the Snuggery,'^ said Jerry, " I got 
very tipsy, and the result was extremely disgraceful to my 
character. I lost my clothes in a low brothel ; and had it 
not been for the kindness and attention of my friend Bon, 
I should have been disgustingly exposed before the public ; 
therefore, if I am rather shy with the glass to-night, you 

* Splikter, in Banco Regis. 



284 LIFE I^' AND OUT OF LON'DOX. 

must excuse me, Sir John, as I am determined to guard 
against any accidents of a similar nature." " It is all free 
will at the Snuggery,'^ replied Sir John ; " please youi'self, 
and I shall not find fault with 3^our conduct." During the 
early part of the evening, Jerry was cautious in the ex- 
treme ; every glass he put to his lips was done in fear ; and 
the old adage, it should seem, was continually before his 
eyes, " Oh, that a man should put an enemy into his mouth 
to steal away his brains;" and he reluctantly did honour 
to the bumper-toasts of the fat Knight. But the fascinating 
company of Tom, more especially when enlivened by the 
" gaily circling glass ; " the jolly sort of conduct of Sir John, 
who at his own table was particularly distinguished for his 
hospitality and rich wines ; the life and fun displayed by 
Logic at all times, added to several other bons vivants who 
made up the party, ultimately overturned the resolution 
of poor Jerry. The reserce of the " Yoimg One " ha^'ing 
entirely left him, he proposed bumper-toasts in return, and 
was not a jot behind the gayest of them in tossing off his 
glass. Sir John had passed the meridian, and was singing 
the following song to Jerry, although scarcely able to 
articulate : — 



The glass, like the globe, shall go round, 
While friends and good claret abound. 
In spite of your grave preaching thinker, 
A good fellow means a good drinker ; 

When " past three o'clock " shall resound, 
Should any one prudently sober be found. 
We'll give him the nick-name of Shrinker ! 



The whole of the party by this period had become con- 
siderably altered in their demeanour, from the copious 
draughts of wine they had stcallowed during the evening. 
Tom was rather mellow, but correct ; Logic was not quite up 
to the mark, yet another glass or two might have unshipped 
his rudder, and rendered him as troublesome as the rest of 
his companions. Jerry was completely done over ; he had 
given the " view- halloo ! " so many times at the request of 
the comjjany, that he had become quite hoarse ; and he had 



I 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 285 

also toasted his " Mary " twenty times, at least, and offered 
to back the " Bud of the Rose" for beaut}^, shape, make, 
taste, talents, and every other quality in the world, against 
anything in the form of a petticoat in Somersetshire, for all 
he was worth, and a sovereign beside ! " You ought to 

have said Rosebud," said Logic. "Call a rose by ," 

accompanied by a tipsy hiccovigh, answered Jerry ; " you 
know what I mean. Bob." The "uncommonly big Gentle- 
man " was also quite abroad, roaring out, " Life's a bumper," 
with a large bumper full of champagne in his hand ; and the 
City companions of the fat Knight were equally as uproari- 
ous, singing, " O, bring me wine, bring me wine ! " The 
Corinthian, perceiving all harmony was at an end in 
the Snuggery, ordered his carriage to the door ; but Jerry 
was not to be found ; he had slipped out of the room, un- 
perceived by the company. Search was instantly made 
after the Young One, but without effect, when Tom and 
Logic drove off to Corinthian House, leaving Jerry to 
find his way home through the City in the best manner he 
could, or to run the risk of being captured by the guardians 
of the night. 

Unfortunately, drunken men, in general, think themselves 
tciser than their neighbours ; and poor Jerry, it will 
appear, had fallen under this error. The Young One 
thought he had had quite enough tipple, if not rather too 
much, and therefore intended to get home upon the shj ; 
and he left the Snuggery under these circumstances. Jerry 
staggered over Tower Sill tolerably well ; reeled down Cornliill 
and Cheapside, so as to have escaped notice ; zig-zagged by 
that noble piece of antiquity, St Paul's Cathedral, better 
than could have been expected, and was getting over the 
ground tidili/, although his steps were of an in-and-out 
description, towards Temple Bar, when the progress of our 
hero was arrested by the advances of a dashing Cyprian. 
According to Fitch's song in the Beggar's Opera, " 'Tis 
woman that seduces all mankind ; " and under this influence, 
the inebriated Jerry was decoyed into a well-known Hotel, 
dedicated to gaiety and pleasure. 



286 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

Scarcely had our hero been in bed an hour, before the 
Hotel was comj)letely in flames ; and notwithstanding the 
alarm in the neighbourhood by the ringing of bells, the 
rattles of the watchmen, the noise of the populace assembled 
in the streets, and the horrible screams of the unfortunate 
women in the brothel, Jerry was so fast asleep, that his 
poramour, at the hazard of her life, endeavoured to make 
him sensible of his danger. After considerable difficulty to 
arouse him from his stupor, he opened his eyes, and starting 
up in the bed, he was assailed by the cries and entreaties 
of his female companion, " You will be a dead man. Sir, 
if you remain here a minute longer; for God's sake, let us 
try to make our escape ! " Jerry was so stupid from the 
fumes of the liquor operating on his brain, that he could 
scarcely comprehend her meaning, until he saw the flames 
bursting forth from all parts of the Hotel. No time was to 
be lost — he snatched up his trowsers, as the only article of 
dress he could put on, and was compelled to leave every- 
thing else belonging to him at the mercy of the destructive 
element ; and, although his own existence was in imminent 
danger, yet gratitude and gallantry united taught him that 
the life of his female companion, who had so feelingly exerted 
herself in his behalf, required his assistance. Jerry, there- 
fore, boldly fought his way through the flames, with her in 
his arms, and was successful enough to get her down the 
stairs, and into the street, without experiencing any hurt ; 
yet she appeared more like a corjjse than an animated 
being, having fainted, from the terror of the scene by which 
she had been surrounded. Indeed, it was a truly affecting 
and dreadful spectacle. By this time, the engines had 
arrived, and one of the firemen conducted our hero, with his 
charge, to a place of safety, a j)ublic-house in the neighbour- 
hood. In the fervour of the moment, and with a sincerity 
of heart that would have done honour to the piety of an 
aged Archbishop, he " thanked God for his preservation ! " 
The exertions of Jerry were now no longer required ; his 
spirits immediatel)^ left him, ho fell back in his chair, quite 
exhausted, and some minutes elapsed before he recovered 
from a swoon. He had now a few leisure moments to re- 



LIFE IN AND OI'T OF LONDON. 2S7 

fleet upon his unhappy situation — the horrors of the late 
scene had sobered him almost to madness ! His clothes 
were destroyed ; his splendid gold watch and seals, the gift 
of the Corinthian, lost ; his pocket-book, bank-notes, and 
letters, were burnt, and a small miniature of Mary Rose- 
bud irretrievably gone. He immediately sent for the land- 
lord of the public-house, and whispered to " mine host " his 
respectable connexions in London, but told him that secrecy 
was necessary, which, if he truly kept, he should be well 
paid for his trouble anrl attention. The landlord procured 
him clothes without delay, and also offered him the loan of 
any money he might want : but not so the landlady ; she 
very reluctantly afforded the use of her garments to the 
unfortunate female in distress. " Me," said she, giving her 
head a most indignant toss, " lend any of my nice clothes, 
indeed, to any such sort of low, wicked varment ? Such 
wretches ought all of them to be burnt ! I wish the fireman 
had been smothered in the smoke, before he had brought 
such a crew into my house ! " "Hush! hush!" answered 
her husband, and whispered into her ear that the person 
was a gentleman, and they would be well paid for their 
trouble ! "Oh," said she, "that alters the case amazingly 
— I always feel pity for the unfortunate. I am exceedingly 
sorry for your situation ; poor dear creature, you shall have 
the use of my best silk dress, my new stays, silk stockings 
— nay, anything that I have got in my house. How vei-y 
fortunate, my dear, to think that you have escaped with 
your life ! " Jerry was soon attired in the clothes of the 
landlord, who being nearly the same size as our hero, he 
became them very well ; but his unfortunate charge, who 
was of a delicate, lady-like appearance, was completely 
metamorphosed in the wearing apparel of the huge land- 
lady. Some tea was brought in by the landlord for their 
refreshment. Jerry, who had not time before to con- 
template the person or character of his companion in 
misfortune, was now struck with the beauty of her face, 
although her cheeks were bathed in tears : on handing her 
a cup of tea, she thanked our hero for his great exertions 
in saving her life, and also for his kindness and attention to 



288 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

her under such very peculiar and distressing circumstances 
— here she sobbed aloud, and appeared to be labouring 
under the most severe mental anguish, and was unable to 
continue her conversation, until relieved by a flood of tears. 
Her tone of voice was so plaintive, and her manner of speak- 
ing so mild and interesting, that Jerry encouraged her to 
proceed with her story : after considerable embarrassment, 
she resumed the discourse. 

" Our meeting," said she, " has been of that appalling 
nature, the recollection of which fills me with so much 
horror, that I am ashamed to look you in the face. But the 
terrors of this night have awakened me to a proper sense of 
my disgraceful situation in society, and I am determined 
instantly to pursue another course of life ; and once more, 
by a change of name, and change of conduct, obtain by in- 
dustry a respectable footing in the eyes of the world." 
" Excellent ! " exclaimed Jerry, " and rely upon my exer- 
tions and purse to second your good intentions. I am 
delighted with your resolution ; the horrors of this night 
have also had a sort of magical effect upon my feelings ! 
I am not what I was ! Indeed, I shall be a different fellow 
altogether in future. Only act up to what you have as- 
serted, and you shall find in me a sincere, nay, a virtuous 
friend, to the end of my existence. Treat me with candour ; 
acquaint me with your name, the outline of your disgrace, 
and, in the sacred name of honour, I will inviolably keep 
your secret. Perhaj)s, this meeting, which commenced 
under circumstances of censure, may, nevertheless, let us 
hope, ultimately produce the happiest consequence to both 
of us during the remainder of our days ; more especially as 
nothing of a criminal nature has passed between us." 

" Your words, generous Sir, have operated upon my heart 
like some reviving cordial," replied the unfortunate girl, 
overwhelmed with tears, " and I will be candid to you ; nay 
more, I will not use the slightest rescrre, and bo as concise 
as possible. My native place is Bath, and ray name 
Ellkn Prettyflower. I was the delight of my parents, 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 289 

who were persons of property, and, being an only child, no 
expense was spared on my education. Indeed, I was in- 
dulged with every pleasure that I wished to partake of, — 
nothing was denied to me ; and to my sorrow, I am now com- 
pelled to confess, with an aching heart, that I had too much 
liberty for a girl of my age, only eighteen ; in consequence 
of which I became acquainted with a Captain of Light 
Dragoons. This connexion, however, I kept an entire 
secret from my parents. He was what the ladies called a 
handsome fellow ; a man of the most insinuating address, 
and well versed in all the arts and finesse calcidated to de- 
ceive an unsuspecting and weak female. I believed his 
protestations of love to me were sincere, and, unhappily for 
myself, I became flattered and fond of his attentions. He 
pressed me to consent to a private marriage with him in 
London, under a pretence that the consent of his father 
might be refused, as he was entirely dependent on his 
parent for property ; but that, after our union, I should be 
introduced, with proper respect, to his relatives and friends. 
In an unguarded moment, I listened to his specious tale, 
and consented to elope with him from the residence of my 
distracted parents. On our arrival in the Metropolis, our 
marriage was postponed from day to day, under repeated 
excuses, and, when too late for my peace of mind, I found 
out I had been deceived, betrayed, nay, ruined ! [Here a 
flood of tears interrupted her narrative. ~\ In less than three 
weeks, this base deceiver found an occasion to pick a 
quarrel, and, in an angry fit, totally deserted me, and went 
abroad. I was left without a shilling, considerably in debt, 
and a total stranger in London. I was stung to death by his 
cruel, treacherous, and unmanly conduct. I was ashamed 
to write home to my parents for forgiveness ; thus one error 
produces others, and in a week or two I was distressed 
to starvation. As long as my wearing apparel lasted, I 
procured subsistence — I resisted temptation, entreaties, and 
golden offers, until nearly expiring wath want — when the 
pangs of hunger, the dread of being turned into the streets 
as a beggar, no house to cover me, or sent to prison for 
debt, and instigated by bad advice— Oh, dreadful recollec- 

u 



290 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

tion — I prosfifuted my person to obtain a livelihood ! " 
Here Ellen Prettyflower would have fainted, had it 
not been for the kind attention and soothing manners of 
Jerry. " I hope God will forgive my errors — I will become 
a sincere penitent, and compose my sorrows in private re- 
pentance and prayers, either in the Female Penitentiary or 
the Magdalen. Assist me, dear Sir, to forward my views 
without delay, and I shall most gratefully look upon you 
henceforward as my best benefactor and sincerest friend." 

Jerry was sensibly affected at the recital of the mis- 
fortunes of his female companion, and as he wiped off the 
tear of sincerity which stole down his cheeks, he said," Come, 
cheer up, Miss Ellen ; the residence of my father is con- 
tiguous to Bath, and I have considerable interest in that 
part of the country. Everything in my power shall be 
exerted to reinstate you in the good opinion of your family ; 
we must all forget and forgive ; and let me impress on you 
the necessity of keeping your own secret, and I promise you, 
it shall never escape my lips ; therefore, cheer up, and look 
forward to better prospects. I will provide lodgings for 
you at some respectable house, until the affair can be quietly 
managed for your return to the residence of your parents ; 
or that you may sequester yourself for the usual period in 
the Penitentiary or the Magdalen. I will leave it entirely 
to your own choice. I must, for the present, leave you under 
the care of the landlord, but I will return to you in the 
course of the evening. In the meantime, if you return to 
your lodgings, to get your clothes, let the landlord accom- 
pany you, whom I have instructed to discharge any ac- 
counts that you may be in arrear ; but do not let a syllable 
transpire respecting last night's adventure ; but your appel- 
lation, perhaps " " Thank God ! " replied Ellen, " I 

have not disgraced my father's name. I was known as Mrs. 
Sarah Blontague, and, depend upon it, dear Sir, nothing in 
the world could tempt me to swerve from my resolution to 
quit an infamous way of life." " I am glad of it," answered 
Jerry ; "and I will return to you in the evening, by which 
period you will have had an opportunity of considering the 



LIFE IN AM) OUT OF LONDON. 291 

subject well, and make up your mind accordingly. Rest 
assured, Miss Ellen, I am only actuated for your happiness 
and future welfare." 

About eleven o'clock in tbe morning, our hero departed, 
in a hackney-coach, for Corinthian House, It had been 
the intention of Jerry to have kept this adventure a most 
profound secret from Tom and Logic ; but Ms altered appear- 
ance in the borrowed clothes of " mine host " was immediately 
recognised by the Oxonian, and our hero was compelled to 
put the best face he could upon the matter. " Good heavens ! " 
exclaimed Tom, " what a fortunate escape ! " " Yes, it was, 
indeed," said Logic ; " and I should have been extremely 
sorry to have heard that Jerry went off in a blaze ! although 
it would have been quite in character — a sort of theatrical 
exit — Don Giovanni in flames ; at all events, my Young 
One, you must stand a little roasting upon the subject. 
What a lucky fellow not to have been scorched.'^ Jerry 
was obliged to put up with the jokes of his pals, though not 
in the best of humour to relish them. He dressed himself 
for dinner, but was repeatedly rallied over his wine with 
want of spirits, by Tom and Logic. In the evening he 
was true to his appointment, and had also supplied himself 
with plenty of money, to liquidate any expenses which 
might have been incurred on the part of Miss Ellen 
Prettyflower. 

Upon meeting together in the apartment of " mine host," 
our hero and heroine were both mutually astonished at the 
appearance of each other, when dressed in their own clothes. 
He thought her, save Miss Rosebvd, one of the sweetest 
creatures in the shape of a woman he had ever seen in the 
course of his perambulations ; and she, in return, viewed 
our hero as one of the finest young men that had ever 
crossed her path ; perhaps, his kindness and generosity 
might have done a great deal for Jerry, to have raised 
him so highly in her estimation. The admirable figure of 
Miss Ellen Prettyflower, her beautiful face, and her 
interesting and lady-like manners, so delighted Jerry, that 
he could not help observing, nav, it seemed to escape his 

u2 



292 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

lips involuntarily, " What a pity ! How lamentable, that 
such a figure, such a sweet face, with such a mind, born 
to have been the comfort of man, should have been thus 
trampled upon and abused. I wish I had the villain in my 
presence, that I might treat him as his infamous conduct 
deserves ! " *' Dear Sir," said Ellen, in a plaintive tone of 
voice, that made its way to his very soul, " I was in hopes 
that I was more an object of your pity than your flattery." 
\_The tears chasing each other down her cheeTcs with rapiditii.^ 
" Pray, Sir, sj^are me my own contempt and hatred." " Mis- 
take me not. Miss Ellen," replied Jerry, " it was in the 
fulness of my heart that I gave utterance to those expres- 
sions, and there was an honesty of feeling about them, I am 
proud to say, that I would repeat them a thousand times. 

However, I sincerely regret but I would no longer 

unintentionally hurt your feelings ; I will come to the point. 
Have you. Miss Ellen, considered well the matter under 
discussion this morning ? But, if you require more time to 
think upon it, I beg you will be frank enough to say so, and 
a week or a month shall be at your service." " Generous 
Sir," replied Ellen, " first let me inform you, thanks to 
your bounty, that your instructions have been obeyed ; the 
rent of my lodgings, and other arrears, are discharged. 
I have also made up my mind, quite to my satisfaction, as 
to my future conduct in life ; my feelings are more com- 
posed, and my heart is lighter ; and, altogether, in person I 
feel better. In order, also, that I might not lose any time, 
I have been to the Penitentiary, and have become acquainted 
with the rules of admission necessary to be complied with by 
a penitent ; and I have the satisfaction to tell you that, to- 
morrow, Ellen Prettyflower will be received within its 
walls. After I have been an inmate of the Penitentiary for 
a few months, I trust, by my good conduct, I shall be so far 
prepared and chastened, that I may send for my parents to 
come and see me, when I can solicit their forgiveness. And 
now, Sir, I have only one favour to ask of you, which, I am 
well assured, you will grant me. See me safe inside the 
doors of the Penitentiary to-morrow, where I may offer you 
my blessing for your manly, disinterested conduct towards 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 293 



a poor wicked wretch, like Ellen Prettyflower. That I 
may part from you as from a beloved brother, who has 
stood forward in the hour of affliction in the place of a fond 
but distracted father ; soothed ray sufferings with all the 
tenderness of an affectionate mother ; also afforded an ad- 
mirable lesson for the most abandoned libertines, by the 
self -reformation in your own person, and becoming the 
benevolent, good Samaritan." Ellen could not proceed 
any further with her remarks, occasioned by a violent over- 
flow of tears ; and Jerry also blubbered out like a great 
boy, so much were his feelings overcome by the sentimental, 
yet pointed language of the unfortunate girl. 

Our hero, on recovering himself, assured Miss Ellen that 
he would not only accompany her to the Penitentiary, but 
she might command his services in any point of Aaew ; he 
also would, if she thought it necessary, wait upon her father, 
at Bath, to prepare him for their interview ; but he never 
would divulge the secret, unless called upon by her to make 
it known. Jerry then took his farewell of Ellen for the 
evening, promising to be with her at the appointed time on 
the next day ; but previous to departing, he paid the land- 
lord the money he had advanced, and likewise made him a 
handsome present for his exertions in behalf of the poor girl. 
Jerry, in the most pensive mind, regained Corinthian 
House, but he had never before entered it under such 
afflicting circumstances. Corinthian House, the scene 
of all his gaieties, now seemed to him his " bane and anti- 
dote ; " he appeared so much " cut up " in spirits, so changed 
in principle, and, in fact, so completely altered, as to be no 
longer a man of pleasure. The whole of the sprees, rambles, 
larks, rows, fights, &c., were as shadoics, when contrasted 
with the hrothel on fire ; indeed, his mirth was absolutely 
changed to melancholy ! He therefore avoided the company 
of Tom and Logic at supper, by pleading illness as an ex- 
cuse, and hurried off to bed, as one of the most miserable of 
men, his thoughts being completely occupied by his recent 
adventure wdth Ellen Prettyflower. The next morn- 
ing he also ordered his breakfast in his bedroom; and, 



294 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

almost like a thief, he stole out of the house, fearful of 
being interrupted, to fulfil his appointment with Ellen. 

Jerry was rather behind his time notwithstanding, the 
precaution he had taken to escape meeting with Tom and 
Logic. Upon entering " mine host's " apartment, he found 
Ellen in tears, apprehensive that some untoward cir- 
cumstance might have prevented him from fulfilling his 
engagement. " I am rejoiced to see you, Sir," said Miss 
Prettyflower ; " your presence strengthens my resolu- 
tion, and also reconciles me to my fate. I will no longer 
occupy your time ; I am quite prepared and ready to set 
out with you immediately to the Penitentiary." " As it 
is unlikely," observed Jerry, " that I may remain long in 
London, I will give you my direction in the country ; but 
I sincerely hope your reception will be comfortable, and 
that a few months' solitude may restore your mind to 
serenity and happiness." On their arrival at the receptacle 
for Female Penitents, our hero surrendered Ellen to the 
proper person appointed to receive the inmates. The fare- 
well scene between our hero and heroine was rather affect- 
ing on both sides, Jerry held out his hand in token of 
friendship, which Ellen immediately pressed to her lips, 
saying, " In my hours of solitude, dear Sir, I shall remember 
your kindness with gratitude, and pray for your health and 
happiness." She was then taken into the interior of the 
Penitentiary by the Matron, when Jerry returned, in a 
sorrowful mood, to the residence of the Corinthian. 

Our hero, although a man of courage, did not, for several 
days, overcome this flaming adventure, as the Oxonian 
termed it ; nay, his feelings were shook to the centre — he 
was quite ill, feverish, low-spirited, and seemed totally to 
have lost his wonted cheerfulness ; in fact, he could not 
rally himself at all. The more he reflected on the imhappy 
circumstance, the more his mind became seriously affected. 
" Had I been consumed,'" said he, " and no traces left of my 
person, and my death been quite a mystery, how dreadfully 
must such an event have operated on my parents, relatives, 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 295 

and friends : and if my body had been discovered in the 
ruins of this well-known brothel, and recognised, my poor 
father and mother would never have been able to have 
out-lived the disgrace of such a thing ! Poor Mary Rose- 
bud would have been ashamed to have shewn her face in 
public ; and, for months to come, it would have furnished 
talk and scandal throughout all the villages in the neighbour- 
hood of Hawthorn Hall ; and my name and situation 
in society likewise blazoned forth in the whole of the news- 
papers all over the kingdom. It is madness to think upon 
it. This last pill has proved more than a dose to me, and 
I am determined immediately to give up everything con- 
nected with Life in London, and return to the country 
once more, to enjoy the sports of the field, and the com- 
forts of a domestic circle of friends. I almost hate myself 
for my thoughtless, stupid conduct, and I have a great 
mind to take an oath that I will not touch a glass of wine 
or spirits for twelve months from this period. Had I not 
been inebriated, I am certain I should not have so grossly 
committed myself ! I wish Sir John's champagne had been 
at the bottom of the sea, before I had drunk of it; and 
if you have any regard for my future happiness, Logic, 
let me beg of you to keep my secret. I would not have it 
known to my dearest friend, on any account : I could not 
withstand the ridicule it would continually subject me to, 
amongst my acquaintances ; numerous quarrels would most 
likely be the result ; and I should be very miserable for 
the remainder of my life ! " "I like nothing ratih ! " replied 
the Oxonian. " Vows, I mortally hate ; and, as for reso- 
lutions lud ! I really feel pity, if not contempt, for 

that man who does not possess fortitude enough to resist 
temptation in any point of view, but is compelled to stop 
by the way, to make a resolution on the subject ! Do you 
recollect, Jerry, the lamentable fate of your resolution at 
Sir John's ? Ha ! ha ! " Then assuming a face of gravity, 
he observed, " it might have been as well for your character, 
if you had not been burnt out ; perhaps, rather better, my 
Young One ; but it is the fortune of war, and persons of a 
more serious grade in society than Jerry Hawthorn, 



296 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

Esq.,* have been subjected to the same fright, trouble, and 
inconvenience ; nay, in the instance I allude to, death was the 
consequence ! But, after all, I begin to suspect that you 
regret more the sudden loss of your fiame than lament the 
consequences of \\e flames. " "Do not joke, for God's sake," 
said Jerry, " upon a subject so very serious in its nature 
to my feelings ! You have added — but, I am quite sure, 
without any ill-natured intention — additional torture to my 
mind, by the deathly anecdote you have just related to me. 
You will oblige me. Bob, by reverting to some other conver- 
sation ! " Just at this instant, the Postman arrived with the 
following note : — 

6 in 2, Banco Regis, 
Dear Jerry, 

Your blazing adventure has just reached my ears; but the 
acts of a man of your notoriety cannot — will not — be kept a secret from 
the public. I congi-atulate you on j^our miraculous escape, and also 
on that of your charmer. I hope the tender creature has recovered 
from the effects of her delicate situation and fright ; but the well- 
known gallantry of Jerry Hawthorn, I am well-assured, has long 
since put all that sort of thing to rights. "What a fine cooling article 
is water ! What a dangerous, /ever-like drink is champagne ! I did 
not calculate on another shift adventure for you so soon ; but I am 
glad that you distinguished yourself by the safety of such an article 
in the Race. I understand the toggery was soon reduced to tinder ; 
the ticker melted ; a boniire made of the flimsies ; and your reader 
destroyed. Pshaw ! not worth a thought ! But, thank your stars, you 
lucky dog, that neither a hair belonging to you or the lady was 
touched by the rude element ! A thousand rumours are afloat about 
this scorching affair, in Banco Regis ; therefore, to prevent wrong im- 
pressions, come soon, and tell me all about it. 

Yours truly, 

Phil. Tim. Splinter. 
Jerry Hawthorn, Esq. 



* Within the last twenty-five years, a celebrated house of accom- 
modation, denominated the Key, in Chandos- street, Covent Garden, 
was burnt down. Amongst the ruins, the remains of a gentleman 
were found, dead, and so much disfigured by the fire as not to have 
been known, but he was said, by the busy, prying, and meddling 
world, to have been " One of the Cloth.'' Whether from matters of 
prudence, or out of- respect to his serious profession, his body was 
not recognised ; yet, nevertheless, it was honom-ed with a most 
respectable funeral. 



i 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF T.ONDOX. 297 

" Confound it ! " said Jerry, throwing down the letter 
rather angrily upon the table, " I shall be teased to death 
from all quarters of the town upon this unfortunate subject, 
I must quit London as soon as possible, or else, in all 
probability, I shall be inundated with letters, full of satire, 
in the shape of coxgratulatioxs, from my friends and 
acquaintances ! " Jerry had scarcely concluded the last 
sentence, when in rushed Sir John Blubber, quite out of 
breath, exclaiming, " my dear Jerry, I am so glad to 
find you alive ! The 6ews was brought to me, only an 
houi* since, that you were found a corpse among the ruins 
of a certain hotel, so burnt, mutilated, scorched, disfigured, 
changed ; and that the poor unfortunate creature who went 
in with you as a companion, was lying by your side with- 
out a rag to cover her nakedness. You were only recog- 
nised by a ring worn on your little finger ; and also, that a 
Coroner's Inquest was to be assembled, without delay, 
upon the bodies. My feelings were shocked beyond de- 
scription, as I came along, to hear the fellows bawKng 
about the streets, like the dying speeches of the men 
executed at Newgate, at a halfpenny each, ' A true and 
particular account of the dreadful Fire, and also of the 
horrid circumstance of a Young Man and Woman being 
burnt to death in a house of ill-fame ! ' Had I, in the least 
degree, anticipated such a lamentable circumstance, I have 
so much regard for your character, my dear Jerry', that I 
would have thrown, without the least hesitation, all my 
fine champagne into the River Thames, and likewise have 
laid the dust in the streets contiguous to the Snuggery, 
with the contents of my wine cellar, rather than your life 
should have been placed in such imminent danger ! " Here 
the scene became so ludicrous, that Tom and Logic could no 
longer contain their gravity, but burst out into immoderate 
fits of laughter, while Jerry kept pacing up and down the 
room, like a madman, his temper was so outrageous. " I 
have a great mind," said he, " to quit London instantly, 
and ncA'er more to return to it. I shall be hunted out of 
my life ! " Tom, who had now enjoyed his laugh, observed, 
" My dear Coz, you take this affair rather too much to 



298 LIFE IX AND OUT OF LONDON. 

heart ; there is no occasion for it ; moderate your feelings 
on the subject ; recollect, you cannot play at bowls with- 
out meeting with rubbers. It might have been my case, or 
Bob's affair. Come, cheer up — forget it ; and in the course 
of a few days, you will be yourself again ! " 

In order to divert the attention of Jerry from his late 
disaster, the Corinthian was continually forming parties 
of pleasure ; and a variety of public places of amusement, 
which had hitherto been neglected, in the course of a few 
days, came under their observation ; but our hero experi- 
enced a considerable drawback, in being deprived of the 
excellent remarks of Logic, who was compelled to keep 
his room from sudden indisposition. Splinter could not 
make one amongst them — Banco Regis to wit ; and the 
" uncommonly big Gentleman " was of too imwieldy a nature 
to be with Tom and Jerry upon all occasions. Our hero was 
now so much in the company of the Corinthian, that 
he could not steal a few hours for himself, to inquire after 
Ellen Prettyflovs^er, without accounting for his absence, 
although he sighed in private, anxious to ascertain how she 
went on with her work of reformation in the Penitentiary; 
but, nevertheless, he was afraid to trust any person with 
such a communication. 

" I hope Logic will be able to accompany us in our visit 
to Lord Liberal's Gallery," said Tom, when he was inter- 
rupted, by the footman putting the following letter into his 
hand — " Aye," observed Tom to Jerry, " here is a note 
from Bob ; let us hear what he has to offer upon the sub- 
ject : "— 

My dear Tom, 

I regret very mucli that my healtli will not permit me to 
accompany you and the " Young One " to view my Lord Liberal's 
fine gallery of paintings ; a pleasure which I had sincerely anticipated, 
as it is well known that his Lordship's taste, respecting the fine arts, 
is considerably above p'^'*'- But " necessitas tion hahet legem/" To 
tell you the truth, I am seriously ill, although not alai-med ; yet, I 
must confess, that I never felt so stranf/ely in the whole course of my 
life. I think the volume is nearly q>j(n out ; and that the book will 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 299 

poon be closed for ever ! But Dr Finish'em will not have it so ; nay, 
lie insists on the contrary : " Lots of pages,^' saj's he, " yet remain to 
be read ; and several chapters must be perused, before you arrive at 
that emphatical word — FINIS ! " Be that as it may ; you are aware 
that doctors differ, and I do not like ap2)eararces ; yet, as we say at 
Oxford, Forti et fideli nil dijfficile ! Nevertheless, I am anxious to see 
you, my dear friend, as soon as convenient ; and I wish Jerry to be 
your companion, as I have something to communicate to both of you, 
rather of a serious nature, concerning myself ; yet, I am far from 
laboui-ing under un coeur contrit. Therefore, tell the "Young One," 
I hope his person is now quite cool — that his flame is also cool ; and 
instead of lamenting over the Coroner's verdict, of "destroyed by 
fire ! " I am happy to hear he is Mttis sana in corpore sano. 

I remain, my dear Tom, 

Yours truly, 

Egbert Logic. 
Corinthian Tom, Esq. 



" There is something behind this letter that I do not like," 
said Tom : " Bob is very ill, you may rely upon it, or else he 
would not be so pressing for us to visit him." "Yes, I am 
afraid it is too true," replied Jerry ; " but let us hope he is 
not so bad, neither, as you perceive he is joking about my 
late affair." "Joke with you !" echoed Tom, "I expect 
Logic will die with a Joke in his mouth, he is so fond of 
pitnuing ! But we will lose no time, as I am anxious to 
ascertain the true cause of his illness." 

Upon the arrival of our heroes at the apartments of 
Logic, they found him sitting at a table, in his arm chair, 
with pens and ink before him : his countenance most woe- 
fully changed for the worse. Indeed, Tom and Jerry were 
quite shocked with his altered appearance in so short a 
time. He endeavoured to smile upon them as usual ; but 
it savoured more of the " ghastly!" than that sort of enliven- 
ing humour which so generally imparted animation to his 
cheerful face. " I am very glad to see you, my boys," said 
he, " before I start on my long journey, which I have been 
preparing for these last five or six days." " I was not aware 
you had any such intention," answered Tom ; " but, may I 
ask, where are you going ? " 



300 LIFE !>' AND OUT OF LONDON. 

" To that bourne from whence no traveller returns ! " 

replied Logic, accompanied by a most penetrating look at 
the Corinthian. " Dr Finish'em has given me my 
quietus, like an honest, candid fellow. On feeling my pulse, 
he observed — * Your hour-glass is almost run out ! Tempus 
fitgit ! Therefore, what you have to do, let it be done 
quickly, or else it will not be done at all ! ' Old Bolus, too, 
was rather funny with me on the occasion ; ' I know,' said 
he, ' your will was always good to serve everybody ; there- 
fore, Mr Logic, have a good WILL now towards your 
friends.' I took Pill and Potion's advice, and the few hours 
allotted to me I have made the best use of that I possibly 
could; and here is my WILL for your approbation." The 
tear started down Tom's cheek, and Jerry was much 
affected at this unexpected circumstance. "I sincerely 
hope it is not so bad as you apprehend," said Tom. " Yes, 
my dear friend," rej)lied Logic, "it is all over with me. I 
have suffered severely from an inflammation in my bowels ; 
but the pain has subsided, and that is the sign of approach- 
ing death. You will perceive, on looking over my Testa- 
ment,* that I have not adhered to any of the technical 
terms of lawyers, being well aware that the distribution of 
my property will never puzzle the pericranium of the Lord 
Chancellor, or occasion a row among the learned brethren, 
to obtain a brief upon the subject ; and if I have not made 
myself perfectly intelligible, I hope you will now point out 
any errors that may appear to you, in order to avoid disputes 
hereafter. It is true, I have no blunt to leave you, my boys, 
but several notes, which, I hope, will always bear an interest, 
and prove as valuable to you in the hour of need — as cash. 
You will, my dear Tom, as my Ijist request, read it aloud, 
for the approbation of my friend Jerry." 



* Testament is perfectly correct. The words ivill and testament 
are generally used indiscriminately ; but they are not words exactly 
of the saiDo import. A ivill is proporlj' limited to laud ; a testanient, 
to personal estate, as money, furniture, &c. 



LIFK IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 301 



THE 

LAST WOEDS AND TESTAMENT OF EGBERT LOGIC. 

Being wide awake — my trPPER story in perfect repair — and dmvn 
to what I am about — I have seized hold of the/e«^/ier, with a firm hand, 
to render myself intelligible, and also to communicate the objects I 
have in view : I give and bequeath unto my friend, Jerry Haw- 
thorn, Esq., my tile, my castor, my tojrper, my npper-crust, my ptmph- 
coverer, otherwise IFY HAT, which, I hope, will never be the means of 
changing the appearance of " an old friend with a new face." To my 
out-and-out friend and companion, Corinthian Tom, I give my 
spread, my summer-cabhage, my luater-phint, but more generally 
understood as my UiiBRELLA ; who, I feel assured, will never let it 
be made use of as a sJieJter for duplicity, ingratitude, or humbuggery, 
of any sort! Also, to Jerry Hawthorn, Esq., I resign my /<(?»- 
snatchers — i.e., my GLOVES, under the consideration, if he ever should 
part with them, that they are only to be worn by those persons who 
have " a hand to give, and a heart that forgives I " Likewise to Jerry 
Hawthorn, Esq., I bequeath my fuur-eyes, my barnacles, my gi-een 
specs., but, amongst opticians, denominated spectacles. It is my 
sincere wish, that nothing green will be ever seen appertaining to 
them, except their colour : I also hope they will not, upon any occa- 
.sion whatever, magnify TRIPLES into difficulties : but enable the 
wearer to see his way through liee as clear as crystal ! I press upon 
Jerry Hawthorn, Esq., his acceptance of mj fogJe, my ivipe, my 
clout, my sneezer, politely termed a silk handkerchief. This 
article has often been used to ivijie oflp the tear of pity, and always 
forthcoming at a tale of distress; may it ever be at hand on such 
Christian -like occasions! To Philip Timothy Splinter, Esq., I 
bequeath my np>per-tog, my Benjeimin, my wrapper, generally called a 
TOP COAT, with the advice, that however it may be mended, mended, 
and mended again, he will never let it be turned against unavoidable 
misfortunes, poverty, and charity. My ticker, my tattler, my thimble, 
otherwise my watch, I bequeath to Jerry Hawthorn, Esq., as an 
emblematical gift to keep time upon all occasions — to remember its 
inestimable value ; and also to recollect that he will, some day or an- 
other, be wound-up for the last time. My two seals I give conjointly 
to my most valued and dear friends, Corinthian Tom and Jerry 
Hawthorn, Esqs., in order, if possible, that the bonds of friendship 
may be more firmly sealed between them, to the end of their lives. To 
Miss Mary Eosebud I give and bequeath my diamond ring, as a 
representative of her excellent brilliant qualities, and also as a golden 
fence to secure her virtue, reputation, and dignity. To my worthj' 
friend. Sir John Blubber, Knt., I give and bequeath my pudders, my 
stampers, my buckets, otherwise my BOOTS, whose knowledge of man- 



302 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

kind, united with his kindness towards the failings of others, teaches 
him to tread lightly o'er the ashes of the dead ! To prevent mistakes 
respecting my bit, I have not a bit to leave ; it having been with me, 
for some time past — Pockets to Let, unfurnished ; Sic transit (jloria 
mundi ! But, nevertheless, I trust that I have always proved amicus 
humani generis ! My BOOKS having been long booked for theii' value, 
and aflPorded me consolation and support in the hour of need — I, 
therefore, leave as I found it, for other folks to bustle in, that great 
VOLUME — the WOELD I which, upon all occasions, was my sheet- 
anchor ! assisted by the following good old maxims, as my guide : — 

Tempus edax rerum. 
Vincit Veritas. 
Privcipiis obsta. 
Vitiis nemo sine nascitur. 
Spes mea in Deo. 
Spero meliora. 

Robert Logic. 



Tom and Jerry were both considerably affected at the 
kindness displayed towards them by the Oxonian ; and had 
it been at any other time, the singularity of the above 
Testament would have produced much laughter between 
them ; at all events, it convinced them that Logic still pre- 
served his character for originality. Three proper wit- 
nesses, disinterested persons, belonging to the house, were 
instantly called in to sign it, when the Testament, in the 
eye of the law, became a valid document. " My dear 
Jerry," said Logic, " as we must soon part, I had intended 
to offer a few remarks for your consideration ; but, finding 
that my strength will not second my intentions, I shall be 
very concise on the matter ; you must perceive that the 
comical part of my career is at an end, and you are well 
aware that I always was a merry fellow ; but, as Mercidio 
says, I shall be found a grave man to-morrow. Endeavour, 
then, * to do unto all men, as you would they should do 
unto you,' and you will not be a great way off the right path 
to happiness. I feel myself very faint ; my breath getting 
short ; and having settled everything to my satisfaction, 
have the kindness to assist me into bed, that I may die like 
a Christian — contented, and in peace with all mankind ! 
Tom, give me your hand : Jerry, yours likewise — I grasp 
them both with sincerity ! " Then looking them full in the 



LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 303 

face, with a placid smile on his countenance, his last words 
were — " God bless you ! " His lip fell ; his eyes lost their 
brilliancy ; and the once merry, lively, facetious, friendly 
Logic, was now numbered with the dead ! 

For several days our heroes were absorbed in grief, at the 
sudden loss of their much admired and valued friend ; and 
Corinthian House, for a long time after the decease of 
the Oxonian, was dull in the extreme. The funeral of Logic, 
under the direction of Tom, was of the most splendid descrip- 
tion ; and a handsome monument was also erected by his 
order, bearing the following inscription : — 

®tis Sahlct 

Was erected in remembrance of 

ROBERT LOGIC, Esq., 

"Who was viewed throughout the circle of his acquaintances as 
A MAN, 
In every sense of the woi-d, 

VALUABLE AS GOLD ! 

Mirth and Good-humour were always at his elbows ; but 

DULL CAEE 

Was never allowed a seat in his presence. 

He played the first fiddle in all companies, and was never out of tune : 

BOB was a wit of the first quality ; 

But his SATIRE was general, and levelled against the follies of mankind : 

Personality and Scandal he disclaimed : 

His exertions were always directed to make others happy. 

As a CHOICE SPIRIT, he was unequalled ; 

And as a sincere friend, never excelled ; but in his character of a 

MAN OF THE WORLD, 

BOB LOGIC was a Mirror to all his Companions. 

Mankind had been his study ; and he had perused the Great 

tSoofe of ILife 

With superior advantages ; and his Commentaries on 

MEN AND MANNERS 

Displayed not only an enlarged mind ; but his opinions were 

gentlemanly and liberal. 

His intimate knowledge of vice had preserved him from being vicious : 

by which source he was able to discriminate with effect ; and 

Virtue appeared more beautiful in his eyes. 



304 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

Truth was his polar star ; and integrity his sheet anchor. 

Adversity could not reduce his noble mind, 

And Prosperity was not suffered to play tricks with his feelings : 

HE WAS A MAN UNDER ALL CIECUMSTANCES ! 

Flattery he despised ; while Candour obtained his respect ; and 

the corner-stone of his character was — SINCERITY. 

He was charitable, but not ostentatious, and a well-wisher to all the 

world. 

His Friends, 

TOM AIS^D JEREY, 

Lamenting his severe loss in Society, trust, that upon the 

AWFUL DAY OF RECKONING, 

The Great Auditor of Accounts will find his BALANCE SHEET 

Correct (^errors excepted) : 

And as the whole tenor of BOB LOGIC'S life had been a volume 

OF pleasure, they sincerely hope it will be 

WELL BOUND at the last ! 



CHAPTER XY. 

" There is no place like home ! " Jerry bids adieu to Life in 
XoNDON, and sets out, with the Corinthian, for Haw- 
thorn Hall. Rosebud Cottage in sight, the Church in 
perspective, and a good look-out towards the High li^ad 
to Matrimony. Uncertainty of existence : sorroiv succeed- 
ing sorrow ! Tom killed by a fall from his Horse tchile 
hunting. Jerry disconsolate for the loss of his two Pals. 
Be flections on the Death of the Corinthian and a few 
Lines to his Memory. Griering's a folly ! Thoughts on 
Marriage: jwpping the Question — the bit of Gold — the 
reluctant No — Yes ! Old Jollyboy an important 
feature. The Wedding Day — all happiness at Hawthorn 
Hall — Jerry and Mary Rosebud united. The tie-up 
of the Story — i.e. to promote Life in the Country. 

The sudden death of Logic made quite a chasm in the 
movements of To:m and Jerry ; indeed, he had been the 
principal caterer for their amusements, and our heroes were 
not only in grief for his loss, but reduced completely to a 
stand-still without him. It is true, Jerry had previously 
made up his mind to quit London, in consequence of his 
narrow escape at the brothel on fire, but the sudden demise 
of the Oxonian positively hurried him out of town. The 
Metropolis had lost its attractions upon the feelings of 
Jerry, and he flattered himself that the neighbourhood of 
Hawthorn Hall, the sports of the field, and the fascinat- 
ing company of Miss Rosebud, would, in a great measure, 
afford relief to his mind, and ultimately restore him to 
cheerfulness. The parents of Jerry were overjoyed in 
beholding their darling son once more safe under their roof; 
and the Corinthian also received the most friendly con- 
gratulations on his arrival at Hawthorn Hall. The 
sombre appearance of our heroes, who were in deep mourn- 
ing for the Oxonian, operated as a great drawback to the 
festivities which, under different circumstances, had been 
intended to celebrate their reception ; indeed, at every step 
they took, the loss of Logic was sincerely regretted by all 
those persons who had ranked him as one of their best 

X 



306 LIFE IX A>'D OUT OF LONDON. 

acquaintances, during his last appearance at Hawthorn 
Hall. " To me, the loss of Logic is incalculable," said 
Jerry, to his father ; *' he was not only able to advise, but 
his manner of doing it was so persuasive, that it was impos- 
sible not to benefit by his experience ; more especially at my 
time of life, when such experience was by far more valuable 
to my mind than any knowledge I might bave obtained of 
men and manners through my own exertions." 

Our hero lost no time in visiting E-osebud Cottage. On 
his entrance, he was welcomed by the father of our heroine 
with no common sort of ardour ; but, on his being ushered 
into the presence of Mary Rosebud, he felt confused, nay, 
ashamed ; her look, although accompanied with a smile, 
nevertheless told him that he had been neglectful towards 
her during his residence in London, and she gentl}' chided 
him for his want of attention. " I am afraid, Sir," said she, 
" it has been with j^ou like most professed lovers, ' out of 
sight, out of mind.' " Jerry could not reply ; bis excuses 
were lame and impotent ; indeed, be was aware that he was 
in fault, and therefore, sensibly threw himself upon the 
mercy of the Court, and sued in the most persuasive manner 
for pardon. The good temper of Mary, aided by a little 
of something else — perhaps love — could not resist the appli- 
cation ; and she generously admitted that some allowance 
might be made for him, when surrounded by the attractions 
of London. " Generous girl ! " exclaimed Jerry, " the re- 
mainder of my life shall be devoted to your happiness." 

Jerry being now perfectly established in the good 
opinion of Miss Rosebud, became doublj^ attentive in his 
visits ; when the minutes, the hours, the days, nay, the 
weeks, almost appeared to fly, so fascinated was Jerry 
with the companj' and attractions of our charming heroine. 
In truth, the time of Jerry was comj)letely occupied with 
hunting, dinners, card-parties, assemblies, &c., accompanied 
bj^ Tom ; and his life appeared so happy, that he congratu- 
lated himself on his return to the seat of his father, and also 
upon the hair-breadth escapes he had met with, during bis 
Day and Night Scenes in London. Yet, amidst all this 
hai)pin('ss, Jit^ky jierceived with regret that the CoiuN- 



HFE IN AM) OUT OK LONDON. '307 

THIAN was labouring under a severe depression of spirits, 
although Toisi endeavoured to appear cheerful in company ; 
but when alone with Jerry, he would frequently deplore 
the flight of the unhappy Kate, and likewise express the 
vacuum his mind suffered by the irreparable loss of the 
society of Logic. "I would give," said Tom, "almost 
everything I possess in the world to ascertain what has 
become of that wretched, unfortunate victim of pride. It 
is very strange that no tidings were ever heard of Kate, as 
the night- constable was a most active, vigilant, honest sort 
of fellow ! " "I will no longer keep you in suspense," re- 
plied Jerry ; " perhaps I have committed an error, but 
you must pardon it, as it was the result of sincere friend- 
ship, and at that time done with a view to spare your feel- 
ings. Logic wished the circumstance to be kept secret 
from you ; however, silence is not necessary now ; and 
therefore, be prepared with fortitude to hear that poor 
Kate is now numbered with the dead ; nay, you ought to 
rejoice that her sufferings are at an end. You may rely 
upon the information being correct — Logic ascertained the 
truth of it from the night-constable ; but let me entreat you 
to rest satisfied with what you have heard ; compose your 
feelings upon a subject so truly painful to both of us, and let 
all traces of her be buried in oblivion." "It is easily said," 
replied Tom, the tears stealing down both his cheeks, " and 
the advice, I admit, is excellent, but considerable time must 
elapse, nay, I do not think that, during my life, I shall ever 
be able to banish her totally from my recollection." 

During a walk, one fine evening, and Hawthorn Church 
appearing in view, Jerry was determined to make the best 
use of the opportunity which offered itself, by soliciting 
Mary Eosebud to name the day that was to complete his 
happiness. " I have always promised ray father," replied 
Mary, with the utmost frankness, "that he should name 
the wedding-day ; therefore, gain his consent, and you will 
have no complaint to make against my decision." "I will 
be your father upon that joyful occasion," said the Corin- 
thian, " if you will permit me, my dear Miss Roseevd, as 
I am very anxious to bestow on my friend Jerry one of 

X 2 



308 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

the greatest treasures in this life, — a most amiable com- 
panion and virtuous wife." Miss Rosebi^d blushed at the 
remark, but, nevertheless, felt pleased with the compliment 
paid to her by the Corinthian ; and the subject was 
dropj)ed until they arrived at Rosebud Cottage. The father 
of our heroine, on being made acquainted with the wishes of 
the young folks, observed, " I am quite content ; and I sin- 
cerely hope they will prove one of the happiest couples alive. 
Therefore, let the settlements be drawn immediately, the 
license procured without delay, the dresses made off-hand, 
our friends invited in good time, and Old Jollyboy re- 
quested to hold himself in readiness. Now having settled 
this marriage business to my mind, let us have a jolly 
evening together before we part ; and to-morrow, Jerry, 
what do you say to a day's hunting ? and your cousin Tom, 
I have no doubt, will make one of the party." " It will 
afford me great pleasure," replied the Corinthian ; " and 
we will be in time to start with you." The evening was 
spent in great jollity — " The single married, and the married 
happy," were toasted over and over again by the j^arty, until 
Jerry became as lively as a lark, Old Rosebud roaring 
out the view halloo ! the Corinthian quite merry and face- 
tious, and Old Jollyboy rather above par, hiccoughing, 
every now and then, with an attempt to pun, that he was 
" fond of {a) good Uving ! " 

Our heroes were read}^ at the appointed time to take the 
field with Old Rosebud ; the latter fox-hunter was in 
high glee with the excellence of the day's sport, Jerry 
equally delighted, and Tom had just declared he had not 
been so pleased for a long time ; but, unfortunately for him, 
in his bold endeavour to clear some high palings, his horse fell 
with him, and he was thrown some distance. On being raised 
from the gromid, it was discovered that his neck was dislo- 
cated, and he expired instantly. Upon Jerry's ascertaining 
the melancholy fate of the Corinthian, his feelings were so 
completely overcome, that he fell down in a fit quite senseless. 

To describe the wretched state of mind which Jerky 
suffered for several days, at the unexpected accident and 
melancholy death of his dearest friend in the world, would 



LIFE IN AN'l) OUT OF LONDON. 309 

have baffled the poet's skill and the painter's talents to 
portray — the shock was so sudden, tind the loss to our hero 
so great, that it was impossible to have been otherwise ; just 
at the moment when happiness appeared to be within his 
grasp, and he was also slowly recovering from the serious 
effects which the death of Logic had also made upon his 
feelings, to have met with such an immense blow — the 
death of Corinthian Tom — shattered his nerves all to pieces, 
and anything in the shape of consolation appeared to him 
officious, troublesome, and unavailing ! Ultimately, by the 
soothing attention of Miss Rosebud, the friendly interference 
of the old fox-hunter, her father, the unremitting kindnesses 
of his parents, and the cheering, good advice of Old Jolly- 
BOY, by degrees he was restored to a state of convalescence. 

From " GAY to grave," was now the reversed scene for the 
contemplation of our hero, and the old proverb verified to 
an awful extent, " that many things hapj)en between the 
cujD and the lijD ; " the marriage rites were now suspended 
to make way for the performance of the burial service. 
The remains of the Corinthian were conveyed to town 
with the utmost solemnity, and interred in the family vault, 
with all those obsequies due to his rank ; and although 
Jerry remained extremely ill, and scarcely able to stand 
upon his legs, yet he was determined, at all hazards, to pay 
the last respects to his most valued friend and relative, 
Corinthian Tom, by his appearance at the funeral in the 
character of chief mourner. Jerry did not quit the Metro- 
polis until he had settled everything to his satisfaction 
respecting the interment of the Corinthian. Upon the 
return of Jerry to Hawthorn Hall, several days elapsed 
before anything like pleasure occupied his mind ; he posi- 
tively refused to quit the house, and he also shunned the 
society of his acquaintances. " It requires no common forti- 
tude," observed Jerry, to Old Jollyboy, " to bear up 
against the loss of two such invaluable friends as Tom and 
Logic — snatched, as it were, in an instant from me, when 
I stood most in need of their assistance, and to whom I am 
principally indebted for the knowledge of mankind which T 
now possess. In Locac, I have lost a model of experience, 



312 LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. 

and the Hawthorns were now united, and Mary and Jerry 
made the happiest of the happy. The wedding-day was 
devoted to pleasure. " It shall be kejDt in the old style," 
said Jerry's father ; " everybody shall be welcome ; we 
will have a dance upon the green ; all the lads and lasses 
in the village shall be invited to celebrate the wedding ; we 
will broach a tub of 'humming huh,'' and nothing shall be 
wanting to promote mirth and harmony." " Good ! " said 
Old Jollyboy, over his pipe ; but, long before the ap- 
proach of night, the " gaily circling glass " had been pushed 
about by Old Hawthorn to all the company — that, suffice 
to observe, as we have too much respect for the cloth to tell 
tales, the fine old Curate required the assistance of " Amen," 
his clerk, to make Jollyboy " all right" at the Curacy. 

The honejnnoon was, of course, a raj^turous one ; after 
which, Jerry' might be viewed as a ' settled heing.' Time 
rolled over pleasantly with him and his bride ; and the 
sports of the field, if possible, he enjoyed with a greater zest 
than heretofore. His fireside was a pattern of domestic 
comforts, although a sigh would now and then escape his 
lips, whenever the thoughts of Tom and Logic came over 
his mind. In every other respect, Jerry was a picture of 
contentment ; determined to profit by his experience, and to 
turn to a good account, for the benefit of himself and his 
family, the many hair-breadth escapes and dangerous ad- 
ventures he had met with in his Day and Night Scenes in 
Life in London. He was the delight of all the companies 
he visited in the neighbourhood of Hawthorn Hall ; his 
general conduct was the praise of the surrounding gentry, 
and he was admitted, by all parties, to sustain the character 
of a perfect Country Gentleman. We now take our leave 
of Jerry, " all happiness," with an amiable, handsome wife, 
a fine estate, a capital stud of horses, and a crack pack of 
hounds, to promote LIFE IN THE COUNTRY. 

the end. 



PBINTKU UV i. S. VIUTUK AND CO., J.IMITKU, CITY UOAU, LOKUOM. 



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